Disclaimer: The Southern Vampire Mysteries are copyrighted to Ms. Charlaine Harris. All rights to characters and locations in the Sookie Stackhouse books belong to Ms. Harris. Copyrights to original characters belong to me. This work of fiction is not intended infringe upon rights held by others than myself, and I make no profit from this work.
CAETERA DESUNT (The Rest is Wanting)
Chapter 10: Star in the East
"Say, shall we yield him, in costly devotion, odours of Eden, and offerings divine, gems from the mountain, and pearls from the ocean, myrrh from the forest and gold from the mine?"—Anonymous
Theme music faded out as the smiling face of a news anchorman appeared. "Good evening and welcome to KTAL's News at Six. I'm Matt Tobin, and this is Diane Watts. Our top story tonight—the body of a woman was discovered earlier today near Coushatta in Red River Parish." Handsome, well-dressed, Tobin's face was appropriately serious as he read from the paper in his hands. "Emergency Service dispatcher Terry Metzler answered the 911 call from Ted Seward when the teenager found what he thought was a discarded store mannequin."
The lovely woman beside him took over the report. "The call came around ten this morning." An inset of a wooded area cordoned off with yellow police tape popped up behind the reporters. "Deputies found the badly decomposed body in an illegal dumping site approximately twenty feet downstream from the Windham Road bridge. Investigators are still at the scene searching for clues to the woman's identity."
Back to Tobin. "According to the Red River Parish Medical Examiner, John Gray, condition of the body will make identification difficult. Investigators told reporters it was likely the Jane Doe was killed elsewhere, then dumped next to Sawtooth Creek. As yet, there's been no word on cause of death. We'll have more on this during the Nightly News at Eleven. Diane?"
"Here in Shreveport, Police Chief H. L. Whitehorn held a press conference this afternoon regarding the so-called 'Vampire Killer' case. Channel 6's Kathy Houghton was present, and she'll have a full report for us later in our newscast. To date, four women have been murdered in Shreveport, and one in Bossier City. Police are urging women to exercise extreme caution when going about their daily routine. Matt?"
"Later in our broadcast, we'll tell you ten ways to protect yourself. Next up, Riley Scott with Sports and Chad Markey with Action Weather 6—when we return after these words from our sponsor."
Chase pressed a button on the remote and the TV went dark. Climbing out of his king-sized bed, he stretched and headed into the bathroom. The mirror showed him paler than usual; he would need to feed from a live donor soon. Spray from the triple-headed shower felt wonderful. He let hot water pour over him while he pondered the news broadcast.
He wasn't surprised someone found Viola's body. That was bound to happen sooner or later. There was nothing to connect her to Fangtasia other than her bachelorette party. Northman had already taken care of that with his initial statement. Finding her identity would take time, even with fingerprints and dental records. Cause of death?—harder to determine since animals had probably been at the body. All things considered, Chase wasn't very worried about Viola, he was much more concerned with Anne Lawton.
Too many unanswered questions.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, Chase went about selecting clothes to wear for the candlelight memorial. It hadn't taken Anne's fellow students long to arrange a vigil for her. Meredith had told him about the service the night before when he dropped by her house to make certain she was all right. Black would be suitable, of course, but should he wear bar clothes or something more formal? In the end he settled on a combination: black leather pants and vest, a black silk shirt. A perfect foil for his pale skin, dark hair and blue eyes.
He drove the Viper. Sleek and smooth, it was a streak of shadow on the highway. Black and silver, the sporty 600 horsepower vehicle ate up the distance between his house and the Cedar Grove area where Meredith lived. He pulled up in front of the iron gate, parking the Viper on the street. Chase pressed a button, and a loud beep announced the alarm was armed and ready to betray anyone who dared stray too close.
Grace answered the door, telling him Meredith would be ready shortly. The older woman eyed Chase suspiciously, physically blocking the door. Apparently, she didn't realize Brandon couldn't enter without an invitation. He could've glamoured Grace, but that proved unnecessary since Meredith arrived within moments.
"Won't you please come in?"
Chase nodded. Grace glared. Meredith smiled.
The house wasn't quite as run down inside as out, though it definitely needed work. It was clean and neat, if not something straight out of Southern Living. Oriental styled carpets were attractive, though faded, frayed and threadbare in places. The furniture was an odd mixture of antique and modern, with a few good pieces Chase recognized as 18th Century Chippendale and Sheraton. With some paint and new wallpaper, the house could easily be restored to its former glory.
Meredith led him into the library, asking him to please wait while she finished getting ready. A fire burned brightly in the hearth and the room smelled of parchment, tobacco and leather. Chase sat in one of the Queen Anne chairs—replicas, not originals—and looked around. Not a particularly large room, it was nevertheless comfortable and attractive. A desk between floor-to-ceiling windows held a desktop computer which Chase assumed belonged to Meredith. Sadly, the shelves themselves were only about half filled with books.
When Meredith returned, she was wearing a long, black dress which reminded Chase of Goth girls at the bar. It fit her figure nicely, showing more curves than he originally noticed. Her face was devoid of make-up, and though her skin was fair, it was nowhere near as death-pale most Goths affected. Her color was natural: lips dark rose, cheeks pinked, eyes large and deep set. There was something about the dress that reminded Chase of bygone eras, though the style suited her. To protect her from the cold, she wore a black coat, gloves and knitted hat.
Grace stood near the door, watching Chase with an expression which plainly said 'I don't trust you, vampire.' "You be careful, Miss Merry."
When they reached the street, Chase saw Meredith's eyes widen when she saw the Viper. "That's a fabulous car." Her voice was filled with awe, which made Brandon smile. He opened the door for her, helping her slip into the passenger seat and fasten the seat belt. Closing her door, he made his way around to the driver's side, pausing when his ears caught the sound of voices. Chase peered around, honing in on the shadows beneath the bridge.
With the weather improved, denizens emerged from under the overpass to gather around the old 50-gallon drum. Flames flickered from a fire, outlining two figures. Chase couldn't recognize either of them, nor could he hear everything they said. All he caught was mention of a dumpster—which in their case could mean anything. Still, when he got into the car, he made a U-turn and cruised slowly beneath the bridge. Two more men had joined the others, and Chase had no way of knowing which two were the ones he'd overheard.
The memorial was well-attended; more than a hundred people gathered in Hargrove Amphitheater. Chase spotted Helga Gerhardt sitting with a few students who'd performed at the madrigal dinner. Meredith was a speaker, her voice quavery as tears made her eyes glisten. Several others spoke, including Anne's brother who was down from Nashville. Brandon was surprised to see the young man sitting beside Tia Dumayne, a female vampire he recognized as a visitor to New Orleans just before Katrina struck. He acknowledged her with a nod, making a mental note to meet with her after the ceremony.
The memorial ended after an hour or so. Meredith sang Kýrie, Eléison accompanied by a young woman on the flute. It was hauntingly beautiful, and Chase heard muffled weeping. He made his way over to where Meredith stood with Helga, Anne's brother and Tia Dumayne, arriving in time to hear them discussing arrangements for Anne's burial.
"...as soon as it's released," the brother said. "She'll be interred at Bellewood Cemetery with the rest of the family." Chase remained quiet until the young man finished speaking. Tia Dumayne cast her eyes to Brandon, nodding in recognition. "Good evening, sir." A hand was thrust toward Chase. "I'm Travis Lawton, Anne's brother."
"Chase Brandon. My condolences for your loss."
"And this's—"
"We have already met." Tia's smooth, silky voice drew everyone's attention. "I was visiting New Orleans before the storm. Ah, such tragedy. I heard I was lucky to have escaped." Her accent was the languid, sultry sound of South America. "It is nice to find you in good health."
Chase felt her dark eyes rake over him, and remembered how Sophie Anne had been quite taken with the raven-haired beauty. "And you, as well." He stepped closer to Meredith, who seemed quite oblivious to the faint tension beneath the surface pleasantries.
The crowd around them began to dissipate. Finally, Helga said, "We should probably move this party to Fangtasia." She looked to Chase for confirmation, something wary in her eyes.
"Probably a good idea—" Chase began, but was interrupted by Tia Dumayne.
"Sí, I am most anxious to meet with your Sheriff. I have heard much about him, and of these horrible murders. Very bad, that, but it is not the first time, no? Was there not similar deaths in ... ah, where was it?" She looked thoughtful for several moments, then shook her head. "I do not recall, but I will think on this."
So it was decided everyone would head over to the bar. Meredith was very quiet on the walk back to Chase's car. He thought it might be reaction to the memorial, but she seemed more worried than sad. Finally, Brandon stopped walking and turned her toward him.
"You need never worry about anything when you're with me," he said firmly. "You have my word on that, Meredith."
"I know, but—" Her lips pressed together. "I've never been to a vampire bar. It sounds kind of ... scary."
Chase chuckled. "It's really not. Just a lot of Gothlings and wannabe vampires hanging around us. Our Sheriff is very careful not to let anything happen to our patrons."
"What about that girl?—the one who's missing. Didn't she go to Fangtasia before she disappeared?"
Meredith had him there. He couldn't tell her the truth, so settled on an evasion. "We don't know what happened to her after she left." He took her shoulders in both his hands. "Meredith, I give you my word it's safe. Helga will be there, and you met Pam the other night. If anyone bothers you, just let any of us know."
It took another moment or two for Meredith to nod. "All right." She looked up at Chase, her expression trusting. "I admit I'm curious. Anne talked about it a lot."
Brandon didn't react, but he'd had no idea the latest victim had been to Fangtasia. So, not only was her brother associated with a vampire, but the girl herself had frequented a vampire bar. More and more interesting. He made another mental note to consult with Menéndez on this latest information.
The bar was fairly crowded. The dance floor was filled with black-clad bodies gyrating and thrusting to the pounding pulse of loud music. Tonight was a live band—rather, an undead band—known as Sibyl. The female singer wailed into the microphone, her voice mesmerizing to the dancers. Her songs were touted as prophesies by her fans, but Chase found them on the boring side. He much preferred Meredith's singing, but that would never do for a bar.
He saw Meredith wince as they entered, and immediately took her hand to thread it through his arm. "It's louder with a live band," he explained, carefully negotiating them through the tables to a booth in the back where Pam sat. It was a little quieter behind the speakers. "Evening," he greeted the Sheriff pro tem. "You remember Meredith."
The human girl was given a long, assessing look, then Pam nodded. "I do. Sit." She made room beside her in the booth. "I know Helga, but you two—?" She gave Chase a glance which begged an introduction.
"Tia Dumayne, Travis Lawton," Brandon told Pam. "He's Anne Lawton's brother from Nashville. Miss Dumayne—"
"Pleased to meet you, Señorita." Chase watched TIA's sloe eyes roam over Pam with obvious interest. "I was not aware a Sheriff could be so my bonito." She smiled, sliding into the booth on Pam's other side.
Helga nodded to Chase, meaning for him to sit next to Meredith. "If you will excuse me, I see Ingrid has returned from her trip." She nodded respectfully to Pam, then scooted off to greet her lover.
The waitress took everyone's order as Pam turned her attention to TIA. "The Sheriff is visiting His Majesty at the moment. I'm merely babysitting his domain." She turned to Travis Lawton, giving the young man an assessing gaze. "Condolences on your recent loss." It wasn't said with any particular sadness; in fact, it was stated without much emotion at all.
Meredith looked at Travis, offering, "The police are doing everything they can to find her killer."
"Or, killers." That was Pam. "The Sheriff is most anxious to put an end to these murders. Have you spoken with the police?"
"They asked me a few questions about Anne's friends, if she had any enemies, that kind of thing," was the answer. Travis seemed very aware of his role in vampire society, behaving in a very appropriate manner. "Her Majesty, the Queen of Tennessee sent Ms. Dumayne with me—" He stopped, ducking his head. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to speak of this."
Chase saw Pam's eyebrows lift. "Very well." A glance at Chase, then full attention on TIA. "Are you representing Her Majesty, then?"
"Only in the most perfunctory manner, Señorita Pam. Her Majesty wishes only to be of service to your Sheriff in such a time of need." Her dark eyes slid over to Chase, then rested momentarily on Meredith. "Her Majesty was most upset when one of her human partners suffered such a familial loss. She offers what help she can to solve these crimes."
"I'll see the Sheriff is made aware of Her Majesty's kindness. In the meantime, please feel free to enjoy what amenities we have to offer."
"We are only here until the police release poor Anne's body. Travis will accompany his sister home."
That seemed to be that as far as conversation went. The waitress delivered drinks to Pam's table: three True Bloods, one whiskey sour, one white wine. A few other Shreveport vampires dropped by the table to meet the newcomer. TIA took Travis out on the dance floor. Meredith sat quietly between Pam and Chase, sipping her wine, looking subdued. Brandon kept a close eye on her; he planned to take her out of the bar the moment she looked uncomfortable.
Finally, Meredith indicated she wanted to explore the gift shop. Chase figured this meant she was about ready to leave, since the shop was near the front exit. She looked tired, her face drawn. A few trinkets in the shop caught her attention: a gold filigree cross, a poison ring, a black velvet choker with a cameo. She looked over ruby glass goblets, engraved medallions and books of vampire lore. Of course, none of these things were expensive, not even the jewelry.
Chase insisted on buying Meredith something to commemorate her first visit to Fangtasia, though she protested. She finally agreed on a slender volume of poetry by Soja Morrison. Meredith explained she'd attended a lecture by Ms. Morrison last semester, and was struck by the beauty of her words. Since Chase wasn't familiar with the woman's work, he promised she could read some to him sometime soon.
"She's amazing." Meredith expounded about the poetess, telling Chase about meeting the woman after the lecture. She lives with a vampire in Salem, Massachusetts, and her poetry is the most beautiful tribute to him."
Chase listened, but allowed some of his attention to wander. It wasn't a far walk to his car; just across the street and half a block down. Brandon kept his arm linked with Meredith's, and she didn't complain. He felt rather pleased with himself. It wouldn't be too much longer before he'd bring her to his bed, and taste her sweetness. At the moment, it was all he could do to restrain himself from taking her into the shadows and—
The noise was familiar. An old engine, not well tuned. Chase looked around, spotting a dark van cruising through Fangtasia's public parking lot. It was three rows back from the street, going slow. It could be as innocent as the occupants looking for a parking place, but something just didn't feel right. Meredith continued to chat as Brandon's eyes followed the van. There were two men inside: one driver, one passenger. No windows on the sides nor in the back doors. It was going very slow, pulling out onto the side street, turning away from the bar, disappearing into the neighborhood beyond.
They reached the Viper moments later. Once more Chase helped Meredith into her seat, then went to the driver's side. His preternatural hearing caught the sound of the same engine as the van returned to the parking lot. Brandon slid into the car, but didn't immediately start the car. Instead, he watched, every nerve in his body alert. There was something very sinister about those two men and that old van.
"Is something wrong?"
Meredith's voice caught him unawares, and he glanced over at her. "I'm not sure."
There was a hint of panic in her voice the next time she spoke. "What's the matter?"
Chase didn't reply. He'd caught sight of the van cruising along the street in front of Fangtasia. Two girls were leaving the bar accompanied by Greg. The van sped up as it got closer, passing the bar and continuing southward. Unfortunately, Chase couldn't see whether it turned or not.
When Greg returned from walking the girls to their car, Chase started his car and caught the young bouncer as he drew even with the exit. In quick words, Brandon described what he'd witnessed, telling Greg to keep a close eye on things. As he left the parking lot, he made a phone call to Pam, letting her know what he'd just told Greg. It might be a coincidence, it might not, but Chase wasn't taking any chances. Northman would stake him if he let a murder take place at or near Fangtasia.
Bad enough the police would soon identify the body found down near Coushatta. No sense taking any more chances.
AUTHOR NOTES: Thanks to everyone for all the great reviews, and for pointing out what you like (and didn't like) about the story. Updates may slow down a little, depending upon how the next few chapters work. Don't worry, though, I'm not going to leave everyone hanging. I'm the type of author who tries desperately to finish what I start.