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The vampire got away with his escapades for over a decade because he was systematic and almost totally untraceable. He would find an actress who was past her prime and in the twilight of her career. These women were usually unstable to start with, so when he used the thrall to further corrupt their weak minds, the results were disastrous. The vampire’s long-term hold on his chosen victims manifested itself as

erratic behavior and was often blamed on alcohol or drug addiction.

When he got tired of feeding from, or playing with, the current object of his desire, he would dispose of her. The West Coast Tribunal had to cover up almost a dozen such messes. Some, like Diana Barrymore and Marie McDonald, actually committed suicide after being abandoned by their supposed master. Others, like Dorothy Kilgalen, Barbara Bates and most famously Dorothy Dandridge, were already dead, and their passings were covered up as suicide so as to not implicate the vampire community.

Poor Linda Darnell had it the worst of any of them. She was so badly broken by the vampire, her house was set on fire to rid the council of the problem. Too bad she’d still been alive at the time.

The result was always the same, though—someone famous died in an incredibly suspect way. The vampire was put down before the Manson family started their reign of terror, otherwise I would have had my suspicions about his part in that.

Some in the vampire community liked to invent rumors, too, speculations about stars they believed to be among the undead. I didn’t know how many times I’d heard stories about a vampire Elvis, but I’d believe that one when I saw it.

But Charlie freaking Conaway? How was I supposed to kill my generation’s Harrison Ford?

“Whatcha got there?” Tyler asked, rejoining the table.

“Just something Holden gave me. ” I didn’t see the need to lie if I could avoid it.

“Charlie Conaway?” He looked over at the card and photo. “I liked him in that movie about the con artist. ”

“Con Long Gone,” I recalled. “Yeah, it was definitely better than those vampire movies. ”

Tyler snorted. “Vampires are so cliché. Hollywood needs a new horse to beat to death. ”

Well, Conaway was going to see his curtain call pretty soon, so in that sense, Tyler would get his wish.

“I always preferred movies from the fifties and sixties myself. Or the old Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn ones. ” I folded up the card and put it back in my purse. Cary Grant the vampire would have been awesome, I mused.

Tyler wasn’t so easily sidetracked. “What are you doing for Charlie Conaway?”

“He’s in town for something. We’re on retainer to make sure none of his more…enthusiastic fans cross the line. ”

“I thought you worked for a pest-control company. ” His voice did nothing to hide that he knew it was total bullshit. Keats and McQueen Private Pest Control was what Keaty and I had printed above the door of our office to detract from unwanted business.

“If you think that, Mercedes wasn’t very forthcoming with you. ”

“She might have said something different. ”

“And what did she say?”

“I’d like to hear about your job from you. ”

Sneaky. I sipped the water we’d been provided, the outside of my glass dewed with condensation from being ignored for so long. “I’m a private investigator. I do a little retrieval work on the side. ” It’s amazing how honest you can be if you tweak your language a certain way.

“Retrieval?” Tyler wore a grin he was trying unsuccessfully to hide.

“I guess you could call me a part-time bounty hunter. ” I set my water back down and pushed a bit of gristle through a pool of au jus on my otherwise empty plate while I judged his reaction. He didn’t laugh, so kudos to him for that.

“You don’t, um, look…” He struggled to find a polite way to phrase it.

“Don’t see a lot of little blondes running around snatching up fugitives?”

He tapped his nose, then pointed to me. I’d hit it right on the head.

“Well, Detective Tyler, there’s more to me than meets the eye. ”

“Now that I believe. ”

It was my turn for a phone to interrupt things. I heard it buzzing incessantly in my bag, but I didn’t need to check the screen to know who was calling.

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