Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

W herein Brenda denies, denies, denies…

“I swear to you, Nina, I don’t know how that got there! I had nothing to do with Owen’s death. I didn’t even know where he lived, let alone strangle him with a lamp cord!” Brenda cried, holding on tight to Peppermint Patty while Linus snuggled near the fireplace, and Doug happily sat on my desk near my desk lamp, where it was warm.

I braced my hands on the arms of her chair as I glowered at her, sticking my face in hers. “Then why the fuck did I find your press-on nail at Owen’s, the same ones you have on your little piggies? Either you fucking whacked the dude or someone’s trying to frame you for murder. Why’s that, Brenda?”

Darnell and Tottington had gotten the animals out just in time for the cops to arrive. Thanks to Darnell’s exceptional demonic hearing, he was able to hide in the backyard of Brenda’s big, fancy house when they busted her door down and listen to what they were saying.

The guy he heard talking sure sounded like the cop I heard at Owen’s. Darnell even heard him call someone Dunst. So it wasn’t a stretch to assume it was the same dude.

What I wondered was how they’d gotten a search warrant on so little evidence, unless her fingernail had her DNA? I didn’t know how the fuck that was possible, since I’d only found it this afternoon. That’d be a pretty quick turnaround, and even then, how would they have her DNA on file?

Wasn’t that how it worked? Wasn’t that how they busted criminals, because the perp had fingerprints and DNA on file in some big computer for bad guys?

Wanda pulled me from Brenda, who once again had the stench of fear all over her. “Nina! Ease up, would you. Let her explain before you crawl down her throat.”

I shook off my anger with her, rolling my head on my neck to ease the tension at the base of my skull. There was nothing I despised more than a liar, and I couldn’t be sure if Brenda was lying to us, but it wasn’t looking good.

“Then get to explaining. What the hell is going on here, Brenda? Because the cops couldn’t just demand a search warrant without cause. They must’ve found some shit on you. Where were you when he was killed?”

Brenda clung to Peppermint Patty as she rocked back and forth, stroking her sparse fur. Her words were shaky when she said, “I was at home. Like I was almost every night, hoping I’d hear from him. Waiting around like some pathetic, lonely old woman by a computer. Do you suppose the police and the clan will believe that ?”

Darnell padded across the room, his finger in the air, his round face full of concern. “I think I know how they got the search warrant, Boss.”

“ How ?” we all yelped.

“I heard ‘em say someone had one of those doorbell videos, showin’ her goin’ into his apartment around the time he was killed…”

I was so close to my head exploding, I almost couldn’t speak. But somehow, I managed. “What the fuck, Brenda!” I yelled. “I swear, lady, if you’re playin’ some kind of game with us to hide from the clan council, I’m going to eat your face off. And don’t think because you’re considered an ancient who’s probably pretty strong, I can’t do it. I’m a violent bitch when necessary.”

Anyone who’d reached her age as a vampire we respectfully called an ancient. They’d accumulated a shitload of strength and could probably whoop my ass.

But when I’m this pissed off, I don’t care. Everyone’s always bitchin’ about how I need anger management, but I say everyone needs to stop actin’ a fool and there’d be no reason for me to get so angry.

Brenda literally cowered in her chair as I glared at her. “I’m telling you all, I was at my house when he was murdered! All night! I didn’t go anywhere, and I didn’t see anyone!”

Marty grabbed my arm to keep me from latching onto the collar of Brenda’s green silk shirt and launching her across the room. “Nina! Cut it out. I’m not going to spend a whole investigation keeping you from killing our client. Get a hold of yourself!”

Wanda began to pace again, back and forth in front of Brenda’s chair, her heels clicking in agitation the whole way “Do you have anyone who can verify where you were? Did you talk to anyone on the phone? Beyond that, how could whomever did this plant an electrical cord in your house ? Who wants to frame you for murder, Brenda?”

Her pale face went paler. “I don’t know who’d want to frame me for murder!” she declared with a sob. “I know a lot of people, but surely no one who’d want to see me in prison. I don’t think I have any enemies. I don’t allow myself to get too involved with human people because of what I am. Never forget how lucky you all are to have each other, because it’s a lonely row to hoe if you don’t.”

As fair as that statement was, as much as I understood the meaning behind it, it didn’t make me any less sure she didn’t kill Owen. And she had no business lecturing us at the mo.

I ripped off a piece of paper from the legal pads Marty had stocked our desks with and dropped it on her lap. “Start writing. List all the people you know, even just casually—and you’d better hope one of them is trying to frame you for murder, or I’m going to hand you over to the clan myself.”

I took Peppermint Patty from her so Brenda could start making a list, snuggling her under my chin as she shook. “I’m sorry I scared you, Nugget, but your mommy might be a murderer. If she is, do you wanna live with Auntie Nina?”

“Nina!” both Marty and Wanda yelped in protest.

Brenda slammed her fist down on the arm of the chair, cracking it in two. See what I mean? She’s strong. Those arms are made of teak . Not an easy wood to break. “I am not a murderer!”

I narrowed my gaze at her. “And I’m not sure I believe that shit, Brenda. So write.”

Marty flicked her fingers at me, her blue eyes angry. “Knock it off and let her make the list. In the meantime, we need to talk to Owen’s wife and see if we can get anything out of her. Maybe someone was unhappy with Owen and decided to take care of him, and this has nothing at all to do with Brenda.”

“Someone who planted the electrical cord in Brenda’s house? Left a fingernail just like the ones she wears in Owen’s apartment? How flippin’ likely is that, Marty?”

Marty threw her hands up in the air. “How flippin’ likely was it the Wright brothers would build a plane that actually flew? Test tube babies? A country album from Beyonce? Unlikely things happen all the time, Elvira.”

See what I mean about my optimistic slash saleswoman bestie? She can turn anything into a positive. I’m not inclined to do the same. “Whatever,” I said, pointing to Brenda. “Just get writing.”

While she did that, sniveling the entire way, I went to do some more research on Brenda. I was headed for a deep dive into her two-hundred-sixty-plus years of life.

I wanted to know where she came from and what she’d been doing all these years. From the pictures Darnell had sent of her house in the burbs, graced with trimmed hedges surrounding the perimeter of the front yard, she didn’t look like she was hurtin’ for cash. She also lived in a neighborhood filled with newer homes, all boasting sprawling front porches and big wooden double doors.

She paid for that place somehow.

I wanted to know how.

The next morning, after a long night of trawling the Internet for info on Brenda, I headed downstairs to the murder basement where Marty and Wanda had the TV on, a news anchor’s blaring voice filling the murder basement.

“Well, look who’s decided to rise and greet the day. It’s Mommy!” Wanda crowed at my daughter, Charlie, planting a kiss on her chubby cheek. She pointed to the TV. “There’s some news about Brenda. As in, she’s no longer considered just a person of interest, but a dangerous suspect wanted for questioning in the death of Owen.”

Well, balls.

“Speaking of, where is she?” I asked, grumpy from a fitful night of tossing and turning.

“Sleeping, silly. All vampires sleep during the day unless they’re trying to stay out of the pokey,” Marty said on a giggle, offering me a mug of blood before taking Charlie from Wanda, planting a kiss on top of her dark brown curls and setting her on her hip.

“Except this vampire,” I groused. “Because she has annoying friends who make her get up during daylight hours to do stupid things.”

I accepted the mug with gratitude. No need to freak out. I don’t drink real blood. It’s synthetic. The clan banned drinking human blood a long time ago. That was before my time. I hear it’s fucking amazing, but I also hear it’s addictive—which is why it’s forbidden.

Because imagine the pile of bodies if it wasn’t…

Either way, I’ve gotten accustomed to the sun (with boatloads of sunscreen) and the daytime hours because of the cases we take with OOPS.

Not to mention, my little girl Charlie is half witch/half vampire. Five a.m. is what we jokingly call her witching hour. Being half vampire, she also ages slowly. You might think that’s a good thing, because it all goes so fast, right? But imagine teething and the terrible twos in perpetuity. It doesn’t go so fast when you’re a vampire.

But she was a miracle, and I won’t ever forget how lucky I am to have her, and all the framily (that’s what I call the people in my life who came to be as a result of my change) that dotes on her because I’m a vampire. I wasn’t supposed to be able to have kids, but that’s a story for another time.

Speaking of my little devil, who’s actually ten in human years but still looks like she’s two (mentally and physically), held out her arms to me. “Mommy!” she cried, her toothy grin making my stomach clench.

I scooped her up from her Auntie Marty and gave her a kiss. “How’s my little princess today?”

“Tell Mommy while she was lingering in her coffin, we had pancakes with blueberries. Grampa Arch made ’em and she ate them all up, didn’t you, Sugarplum?”

Charlie nodded. “All up!” she agreed, rubbing her belly.

I snuggled her neck, making her giggle. “Who’s such a good girl?”

Marty shook Charlie’s favorite stuffed toy at her with a grin. “You know, I know her aging so slowly has its grievances, but I’m here to tell you, I don’t mind at all that she’s stayed so cuddly for so long. It won’t be but a bit before she’s a teenager like Hollis, with all her teenage ills. Believe me when I tell you, we’ve been locking horns a lot these days. Count your blessings.”

Nodding, I actually had to agree with Marty. Trust and believe, it doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. “I hear when they go from the toddler stage to like six or eight, shit happens almost overnight. I’m not sure I’m ready for that crazy just yet.”

Because Charlie’s a rarity in our world, we don’t have any specifics on the rate of her growth. Add in that she’s half witch and it’s all wonky. In other words, we don’t know a lot about how she’ll mature. All I know is, my life is a zillion times better because of her.

Charlie struggled to hop down from my arms when she saw her brother Carl. Carl is my adopted son—I took him from a witch doctor years ago who had zero clue how to take care of him, and he’s been with me ever since.

We don’t have official paperwork or anything. I don’t know how he became a zombie or why he was with that witch doctor. I just know, he’s mine and I’d dare anyone to say different.

He’s also the sweetest kid to ever walk the face of the fucking Earth and the best big brother Charlie could ask for.

“Carl!” Charlie teetered over to him, holding her arms out so he’d scoop her up.

He grinned his pale green grin and knelt down in front of her. “Pi…piggy…back?” he asked in his choppy, jumble of words. Carl struggles with his speech, and he’s forever losing a part of his body—fingers, toes, you name it. We could own stock in duct-tape for all the patching we do.

Charlie hopped on his back instantly with her perfect smile. “Yes, pease!”

“P l ease,” he corrected as he hiked her up.

“Hiyah!” she ordered with a gentle pat on his back, her pigtails bouncing as Carl played her favorite game of horsie.

He burbled a laugh, looking to me for direction. “Up…st-stairs?”

I dropped a kiss on her cheek and ruffled his thick head of dark hair. “Yeah, buddy. If you don’t mind, that’d be great. We’ll do story time later, okay?”

He nodded with a warm smile and galloped off while Charlie screamed with delight, yelling “Giddyup!”

Wanda draped an arm around my shoulders. “He’s such a great young man, isn’t he? You’ve done an amazing job.”

I nodded, the familiar warmth of seeing them together settling in my belly. “He really is the best.” Then I set my mug down and cracked my knuckles. “So let’s get the show on the road. I don’t know how the fuck we’re going to get Owen’s wife Astrid to talk to us, but we gotta do it if we’re going to get anywhere. Anybody got a plan?”

Marty smiled and shook a clipboard at me. “Oh, I’ve got a plan, all right. How do you feel about the white-cheeked spider monkey?”