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“What about the hearts? They were just bagged up on your shelves. You didn’t think that was unusual?”
“Thought it was for research or something.”
“Human hearts?”
“Vampyrs ain’t human,” her husband muttered.
Barbara glanced down at her notes. Hal.
“So, you did know they were vampyr hearts then, sir?”
“He ain’t saying that,” Carly snapped. “Look, we’ve told you all we know. And the Doc is dead, so I don’t see what difference it makes.”
Barbara let out a sigh. The four of them sat around a table in front of the bar. Barbara still hadn’t had a chance to change out of her pajama bottoms or brush her hair. After calling Carly, she had set about documenting the scene. She had taken photographs of the hearts and head and then replaced it in the container. It was male, late forties in appearance and, from the style of the hair and the piercings in the ears, not old enough to be antique. The second container held another head. Younger, female. Bleached-blonde hair shaved on one side. A girlfriend perhaps. Both had bad skin and teeth. Maybe the two had been outliers, living rough? Lone vampyrs were easier prey than those from established colonies. Barbara was pretty sure the victims weren’t local, either. They had a city look about them.
“Whether you were aware of what was in the containers or not,” Barbara continued, “possessing vampyr hearts or heads is a criminal offense.”
“Bullshit! You can’t blame us for something we didn’t know about.”
“Mom,” Mayflower said in a low tone.
“Don’t you ‘Mom’ me. You still ain’t explained what you’re doing here at five in the morning.”
“I told you, Mom. I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come in and get started early—do some cleaning, y’know.”
Carly looked dubious. Barbara broke in: “I’m afraid ignorance is no defense in the eyes of the law. Of course, if you have any more information that might help the investigation, ma’am, I’m sure I could take that into account?”
She smiled at Carly and Hal. Hal looked like he was about to speak, but Carly got in first: “We’ve told you everything.”
“Okay…well, in that case, I’m afraid this area is now a crime scene. No one in or out. That means the Grill doesn’t open until I’ve finished gathering evidence.”
“What? We need to run a business.”
“Not this morning, ma’am. Until further notice, the Grill is closed.”
Carly and Hal stared at her with undisguised hostility. Mayflower put a hand on her mom’s arm. “One morning isn’t the end of the world, right?”
Carly snatched her arm away. “You’re not the one paying the bills.” She shoved her chair back and stood. “C’mon, let’s leave the detective here to get on.”
Hal and Mayflower both stood. Carly continued to glare at Barbara: “I’d have thought you’d be more concerned with the dead fifteen-year-old in the freezer than those vampyr scum. If you ask me, you should be congratulating whoever killed those fuckers.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to take your feedback into consideration, ma’am.”
The trio turned to go. Barbara cleared her throat loudly. “Just one more thing.”
Carly turned.
“I’m going to need your keys,” Barbara said.
Carly shook her head but reluctantly took out a bundle of keys. She took two off and handed them to Barbara. Hal and Mayflower did the same.
“These all the keys?” Barbara queried.
“Yep,” Carly said.
Barbara wasn’t sure she believed her, but it would have to do. Unless she could find signs of a break-in, someone out there must have another set of keys. Either that, or they had somehow managed to hide in here after closing.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done here.”
