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Nicholls sighed heavily. “Well, let’s see what Stephen has to say for himself.”
—
Stephen Garrett’s house was a large, double-story wooden property. Next door was a storeroom and a large work shed. A polished but aging truck sat outside along with a trail bike and a snowmobile that looked like it was being refurbished. Smoke puffed from a metal chimney on the roof and melted into the lightening sky.
Nicholls pulled up outside the property and they climbed out of the car. Almost as if he had been waiting for his cue, a tall, good-looking man with long sandy hair tied back in a ponytail emerged from the store. He wore a battered flying jacket, jeans, hiking boots and a wide smile.
“Hey, Pete. How’s it going?”
“Hey, Dan. Not so bad.” Nicholls strode forward and the pair shook hands.
Pete, not Chief or sir, Barbara noted. But then it was a small town. People knew people. Hell, most people were related to people.
She saw Dan’s eyes fall on her. The smile faltered a little around the edges.
“This is Detective Barbara Atkins,” Nicholls introduced.
Dan nodded. “The vampyr detective.”
“That’s me.” Barbara held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Dan hesitated only momentarily before shaking it, but the hesitation was there.
“Likewise.”
“We wondered if Stephen was around?” Nicholls asked, keeping his tone casual.
Dan’s eyes flicked between them. “He’s up in his room. Why? Didn’t he give you a statement?”
“That he did,” Nicholls said. “But Detective Atkins here would just like to go over a few things with him herself.”
Barbara forced a smile. “My job is to dot the i’s and cross the t’s, sir.”
Dan nodded. “Okay. Follow me.”
He led them into a large open-plan living area. It was bright and homey. Big, comfortable sofas, a widescreen TV, bean bags and a Shaker-style kitchen.
“Jess is just out visiting a friend,” Dan said. “She won’t be too happy to find you here, so if you can keep it brief. She’ll be back in about half an hour.”
“Not a problem,” Nicholls said.
“We’ll do our best, sir,” Barbara said. “You have a lovely home, by the way.”
Dan nodded again. “Thanks. I’ll get Stephen.”
Barbara and Nicholls stood awkwardly in the living room. Barbara looked around. Family pictures decorated the walls. A sturdy cross hung over the fireplace. She walked over and looked at the photos. A large black-and-white wedding photo of Dan and (she presumed) Jess. They made a handsome couple. Both tall and rangy. Jess had long, curly blonde hair and enviable cheekbones. Most of the other pictures were of Stephen. A Disney-perfect kid who had grown up into a sturdy teenager with athletic good looks. Nothing out of the ordinary. A wholesome American family. For some reason, that immediately made her suspicious.
The stairs creaked and she turned. Dan walked down, a teenage boy slouching behind him. Stephen. He wore a sweatshirt and baggy jeans, blond hair tousled. Barbara felt her skin prickle with instant dislike. Still, she attempted a small smile.
“Hi, Stephen.”
Stephen glanced at Barbara but addressed himself to Nicholls. “Dad said you wanted to talk to me again.”
“That’s right. This is Detective Atkins.”
“I told the chief what happened.”
“I know you did,” Barbara replied. “But there’s a few points I need to clarify.”
