Chasing Daybreak (Dark of Night Book 1) Read online

  “This would have been helpful last night,” I grumbled to myself.

  “Hold up. I’m sleeping on the twin bed you had when you were fourteen, and yet you can afford these?” Shane complained.

  I shot him a challenging glance. “If you don’t like the bed, I’ll just take it out and put in a nice, roomy coffin for you…”

  He shuddered. Claustrophobia, apparently, was not one of the things you got over after becoming a vampire. Without another word, he pulled open the next box, revealing a plethora of goodies.

  “What’s all this?” he asked, licking the last drop of liquid from the corner of his mouth.

  I pointed. “Bionic ear. Computer snooper. And micro-UHF room transmitter.”

  “Okay, this time in English.”

  I sighed, “This one lets us hear from distances of eighty yards, this one records and transmits keystrokes on a computer, and this one is a listening device.”

  “I don’t know why you need this stuff. I’m better than any techno-gizmo,” he bragged. “And I can hear way farther than eighty yards.”

  He was right. Shane was better than any gear I could buy, but the rational part of me knew I couldn’t count on him being around forever.

  “Yeah, well, you know, in case you die for real next time…”

  He thought about that for a minute before responding, “I’d just come back and haunt you.”

  “Funny, I thought you already were,” I said earnestly.

  “Nah. If I were a ghost, you couldn’t make me clean the dishes.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You wanna bet?”

  The rest of the afternoon passed with me at the computer paging through the articles and coverage of the Welch disappearance. There was a lot of media speculation, but no real leads. Shane sat behind me, making notes as I read aloud.

  “Lisa Welch disappeared from her home in Summerville on January 14th of this year. The neighbors reported nothing unusual, at least not to the press. Her four kids were in school, husband at work. That’s about it. It talks a little about her charity work, nothing helpful. Did you call Reggie?”

  Reggie Lukas was the lead detective on the case, and an old family friend. He was also one of the few people in town who treated Shane like he was still a person and not some demon sent to steal their souls. His wife, Connie, had even invited Shane to dinner last month.

  The older vamps in town pretty much ignored Shane, as he had no wealth or status, so it was good for him to feel like he belonged somewhere. I wondered if he’d change much when the vampire community really started to accept him. I kind of hoped not.

  “Yeah, he said we can come down at six.”

  I stretched in my chair, “What time is it now?”

  “Four-thirty. You need some food?”

  I shook my head, “Nah, I’ll grab something after.”

  “You know,” he said with mock earnestness, “you really should lay off those fast food stops. They go right to your thighs.”

  I spun the chair and stared him down. “My foot is going to go right to your ass here in a minute.”

  “Brave talk for a walking Happy Meal.”

  “Speaking of your repugnant diet, the blood bank is dropping off your order tonight. I’ll leave a check on the table in the foyer.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Thank goodness for the new vamp meals-on-wheels program. You’d be amazed how many people would be happy to donate to the cause. Some people thought there was something romantic about the idea. Most just didn’t want a town full of thirsty vamps. I couldn’t blame them on that count.

  I’d seen Shane after his change, when he was still deranged with the bloodlust. The Vamp Council had kept him caged in the basement of their local safe house for almost two weeks before they called me to come get him. At first, the call surprised me. I was still licking my wounds from my cancelled wedding. He’d taken off, or so I’d thought. Their call gave me a sick kind of hope. Maybe he didn’t blow me off after all; maybe we could still have our wedding, our life, just like we planned. Seeing him in those chains had been the last straw for me. When you were looking into the blood-red eyes of a vampire, there was nothing romantic about it. He’d grabbed for me, trying to rip my throat out. Part of me wanted to let him; it would have hurt less to have my throat ripped out than my heart.

  Something between us broke that day. I’d left him in that cage, unable to make myself believe what had happened. And a few days later, he’d shown up on my door. For a few minutes, it was like it had all been one long, terrible dream.

  And then he bit me.

  Maybe Mom was right, maybe his soul was damned. Maybe he was just another unfortunate accident. Either way, the person he used to be—the person I loved—was lost to me. Now I just struggled to look at him and not hate him. For what he did, what he’d become, and what I wanted him to be. I pinched my nose with my fingers.

  “Headache?” he asked.

  “Nah, I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I know. Oh, and you’re welcome for saving your life by the way.” He smirked.

  “We wouldn’t have been stuck in that closet in the first place if your ‘super nose’ would have smelled Young in the house.”

  He frowned. “All I could smell was the vamp blood. I thought someone might be hurt.”

  I waved my hand. “Bygones. Besides, watching you get tranqued with a blowgun was totally worth the price of admission. It was like watching an elephant fall asleep at the zoo. In slow motion.”

  “An elephant? Surely, you mean a ferocious tiger.”

  “Or a baboon.”

  He growled.

  I laughed. “You should go change. I have a few calls to make before we leave.”

  “Are you kicking me out?”

  “Darn, and here I thought I was being subtle. Guess I’m no match for your awesome brain power.”

  “As long as you can admit it.”

  I made a shooing motion with my hand. “Get out.”

  “Going. I have a few calls to make myself. Mercy wants to talk to me about the initiation into Conclave.”

  Mercy was Shane’s new girlfriend, of the walking-undead variety. I still didn’t get it. She was bottle blonde, her accent was as fake as her expensive fingernails, and she honestly thought Madagascar was something you smoked.

  “Are they finally taking you off the leper list?” I asked bitterly.

  “I know you don’t care, but it’s my chance to finally be accepted as what I am. It’s not just the money and the status. It’s nice to be around other people like me.”

  “Do you really want to break into that world?”

  “Well, I don’t really belong here anymore. I’d like to belong somewhere.”

  “I just don’t get what you see in her, Shane, seriously.”

  “She’s like me,” he snapped.

  Mercy was only a few vamp years older than he was, but she’d been made with the permission of the council and had quickly become their favorite pet. It was her voice in his ear telling him he didn’t belong here. He wasn’t mine anymore—the rational part of my brain knew that. It was the rest of me that didn’t get the memo.

  “That’s a pretty poor reason to be with someone.” I snorted.

  “What’s a good reason to be with someone? Enlighten me, Isabel.”

  “Well…” I paused, taking a drink of my coffee. “You should be with someone who gets your jokes. Someone who will hold your hand when you’re sick. Someone who doesn’t think Calvin Klein started the Boxer Rebellion.”

  “How about someone who I can kiss without wanting to take a bite of? Someone who doesn’t get grossed out when I drink a cup of blood, or who looks at me like they want me and not like I’m a burden?”

  I was so stunned that I didn’t know what to say. Partly because he was right, and as guilty as I felt about it, I didn’t know how to make it better either. In some ways, having him around helped. In others, it was like picking at old
wounds. Neither of us ever seemed quite able to heal.

  Shane held up his hand to stop me before I even opened my mouth.

  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I just… it’s been so long since I could be with someone and not hold myself back. With Mercy, I can let go and just be myself. Fangs and all.”

  I nodded. How could I begrudge him that?

  “Well, you always have a place here, no matter what Zombie Barbie thinks.”

  But when he smiled, showing just a little too much fang, I cringed. He noticed and closed his mouth tightly.

  “I know,” he whispered, walking away. As he turned to leave, he added, “But I think I need my own place. Maybe one of the old plantation houses.”

  “Or a nice crypt with a view,” I called after him.

  ***

  Reggie had all the evidence boxed up for us when we got to the station. Seeing me walk in, he meandered over and threw a thick arm around my shoulders. The top of my head barely hit his shoulder. Not because he was so tall, but I was just that short. Between my height, my petite frame, and my wavy, dark hair, people were always shocked when I told them my occupation. What I said was private investigator—what they heard was midget bounty hunter.

  “How’s it going, baby girl?” Reggie asked, leading me to his desk.

  That had been his nickname for me for as long as I could remember. He’d been one of my dad’s best friends when I was growing up, and he’d been especially fond of me. I could always talk him into having a tea party with me when he came to visit. Let me tell you, there was nothing quite as endearing as a two-hundred-and-seventy pound police officer sitting in a small, pink chair sipping imaginary tea with a tiny napkin tucked into his shirt like a bib.

  With a squeeze, he let go of me and shook Shane’s hand.

  “I’ve been better, Reggie,” I admitted.

  He nodded. I was sure he’d heard all about it by now. News traveled fast in a place like Charleston.

  Shane sat on the edge of the desk. “So, what can you tell us about the Welch case?”

  Reggie ran his hand over his nearly bald head before tossing me a thick manila folder.

  “It’s all in there. Unfortunately, that’s all you get to take with you. Those are copies of the official reports. All the evidence, however, stays here.” He shrugged apologetically. “Open case and all.”

  I understood. Chain of evidence. He couldn’t risk us compromising anything just in case it ever had to go to trial. Nodding, I opened the file.

  “So, is there somewhere we can take a look at this?” Shane asked.

  For being a former history teacher, Shane had adjusted well to the life of a PI. He didn’t ask a lot of dumb questions, especially around the police. It made things easier on me not to have to constantly school him on police procedure.

  Reggie hefted the white box and dropped it into Shane’s arms. “Interrogation Room One is open. It’s all ours.”

  In a strange procession, we walked to the room, followed by dozens of curious stares. I tried to ignore them. It was only natural they’d be curious, even suspicious of Shane, and by association, me. No one was outright rude, and that was all I really asked for.

  Flicking on the overhead light, we settled around the wooden table. Reggie took a seat in a corner and propped his feet on the table, leaving Shane and me to rummage through the contents of the box.

  I examined the bags. “Are these from the house?”

  “The house, the car. Even her locker at the school where she taught,” Reggie answered in his thick Southern drawl.

  “Her computer?”

  He shook his head. “No personal computer. We have her phone, but there were no unusual calls made or received. Baby girl, I know her daddy is upset we aren’t actively pursuing the case anymore, but we went over every scrap of her life and came up with a big fat nothing. Looks more and more like she just ran away.”

  “You really think so?” I looked him flat in the eye.

  “Aww hell, I dunno. I don’t think she’d leave those kids, that’s for sure. But you never really know about people, do ya?”

  I agreed. People never failed to surprise, and often disappoint.

  I pulled out a bag holding a planner. “Anything in this?”

  Reggie nodded as he leaned forward and opened the folder containing the notes. “There’s a copy of every page in here. It was just her work schedule, the kids’ school stuff, and a couple of nail appointments. No red flags.”

  “Reggie, you know I’m not trying to step on your toes here. I’m sure you guys did all you could. I told her father as much. But if it’ll make him feel better to get another set of eyes on this, then that’s the least I can do for him. Whether she just took off or not, he lost his child. Those kids lost their mother. So I’ll go over every scrap one more time, just to give them what little peace of mind I can offer.”

  “I know that, baby girl,” Reggie said softly. “I wanna put this mess to bed as much as anyone.”

  His eyes held mine, full of emotions his words would never betray. We’d both been in the search team when she’d first gone missing. Every day there were fewer and fewer volunteers. At the end, there were just five of us. Then they called off the searches all together. No one ever wanted to admit it, but the honest truth was we knew from day one it wasn’t a search-and-rescue mission, it was a recovery mission. We never expected to find her alive.

  Reggie had been on the police force for over thirty years. I knew his wife wanted him to retire, and I knew why. Jobs like his, cases like this one, they haunted you. I’d only been doing this for a year, and I could already feel the weariness creeping into my bones. How my father had managed twenty-odd years on the force and another ten as a PI, I would never know.

  When I’d first taken over the business, Reggie came to see me. He told me that the only thing keeping him sane was his family, that they tethered him to life. Without that, he said, the darkness would eat away at a man’s soul. He told me to find my tether.

  I was still looking for one.

  Two hours and six pages of notes later, we were finished. As Shane and I repacked the box, Reggie handed me the cardboard lid.

  He rubbed his head. “You got everything you need?”

  “I think so.” I slipped the pages of notes into the folder. “I’ll call you if we turn anything up.”

  I tossed the clear bag holding Lisa Welch’s purse into the box with a flick of my wrist. Useless, I thought with a huff.

  Beside me, Shane stiffened.

  I looked up. His face was rigid, nostrils flared, mouth in a half snarl.

  “Shane?”

  Reggie noticed, too. His hand twitched at his side not far from his gun.

  “Shane!” I snapped my fingers this time.

  He relaxed, looking down as the tension receded from the air around him.

  “What is it?” Reggie asked.

  Shane picked up the evidence bag I’d tossed and held it out to Reggie. “Can I open this?”

  Reggie tilted his head to the side, his hand still hovering near his gun. “No, but I can. Why?”

  “I need to smell it,” Shane answered quietly, not looking up.

  Reggie looked baffled. “Smell it?”

  I stepped in before Shane had to explain. “Shane has a highly developed olfactory sense. A thousand times better than any bloodhound. He might be able to smell something on the purse that could give us a clue about her abductor.”

  I tried to make myself sound more confident than I felt. Truth was, Shane did have a great nose. Unfortunately, the thing he could smell the best was blood. If that bag had been in, near, or around blood, he’d know it.

  With deliberate slowness, Reggie took the bag from Shane’s hand. Pulling a knife out of his utility belt, he slid the blade across the red seal, squeezed the bag open a fraction, and held it out to Shane.

  “Don’t touch it,” he warned.

  Shane looked up, his brown eyes clear, and nodded. I let out a brea
th. Whatever he was up to, he was at least in control of himself.

  Holding the bag carefully under his face, he drew in a deep breath. Then another. Closing his eyes, he handed the bag back to Reggie, who quickly resealed and initialed the pouch.

  “Anything?” Reggie and I asked at the same time.

  Shane shook his head. “A hint of perfume and gasoline. This was found in the car?”

  “Yep. Wow, that’s better than a bloodhound Brooks.” Reggie closed the box with a smile. His voice was dry, husky. As much as he liked him, I knew Reggie would have shot Shane in a second if he thought he was going to lose it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “Can we get a look at it?” Shane asked as we left the room.

  “You’ll have to talk to the husband,” Reggie answered. “As soon as the scene was cleared, the car went back to him.”

  “Great.” I sighed.

  It was too late for a drop-in visit, so I settled for making a phone call when we got back to the office. Shane sat across from me as I dialed Robert Welch, Lisa’s husband. He answered on the first ring, his voice hopeful. I frowned. After all these months, he was still waiting for the call. The one that would change his world forever.

  “Hello, Mr. Welch. I’m Isabel Stone from Stone Private Investigations. Your father-in-law has hired me to look into your wife’s disappearance and…”

  That was as far as I got.

  “Look here, lady, I don’t care who hired you, and I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ve already said everything I’m going to say to the police. Don’t call me again.”

  Click.

  I held the phone away from my head and shrugged at Shane, who was tapping a pen on the desk. I knew he’d overheard the brief conversation. Lowering the receiver back into the cradle, I sighed and rested my head on my hands.

  “Ok, partner. What did you really smell in that bag?”

  With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the pen toward the cup. It landed inside with a thunk. Wiping his hand down his face, he hesitated before he answered. It was a gesture I knew all too well, one that meant I probably wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  “I smelled vampire,” he finally admitted. “I think.”