vamps were at one of my tables. They’d been nice all evening until the big guy came. And the foreigners.”
Ari pricked up her ears. “Foreigners?”
The elf bobbed her head. “They didn’t speak very good English, so I figured they were visiting someone.”
Feyla didn’t know where the strangers were from, and she seemed unaware of their species, but she remembered there were two women in the group. And she was positive the trouble started at their table. “I know the Second Chance has a poor reputation, but it’s never been this bad.” The girl sniffed. “You’re not going to close them, are you? I’d hate to lose my job.”
Fearing an outbreak of tears, Ari assured the girl any closing would be temporary. She told Feyla to leave her name with the officer at the door and to point out the vamps’ table before she left. Feyla pointed toward a table near the stage.
As Ari approached the table, she noted that Feyla hadn’t gotten this far in her cleaning. Eight glasses. Two vamps and six companions. There was nothing else on the table surface except moisture rings, some spilled cigar ash, and used napkins. Maybe forensics would find some useful DNA.
Using a clean napkin from the bar, Ari pulled out each chair, checked the seats, and finally looked under the table. Two cigar butts, mud from somebody’s dirty boots, a sticky patch from spilled beer, and a tiny speck of something blue. She dropped to one knee and leaned in for a better look.
“Do you have an evidence kit?” she yelled to the officer on the front door.
“Yes, ma’am.” He brought it over.
“There, see that blue thing?” She pointed under the table.
“Sure do.” He pulled a plastic bag from his kit and offered it to her.
Ari shook her head, “No, go ahead.” She didn’t see a reason to write a report for finding evidence if she didn’t have to. Besides, the young officer would enjoy the experience so much more. His face creased into a wide grin when he retrieved what looked like a small blue capsule. “Looks like some kind of drug, ma’am.”
Score one for the good guys. “Nice going, Officer. Take it to Lt. Foster,” she instructed. “I guarantee he’ll be interested.”
As he scurried off to find his lieutenant, Ari wondered if they’d opened Pandora’s Box. If that capsule contained a drug with a violent, intoxicating effect on vampires, Riverdale’s current problems could morph into a nightmare.
Chapter Eleven
The following days were busy. Interviews, meetings, worrying. The community was on edge, and Ari had little time to spare for the freaky confrontation with Andreas. Efforts to stop the Otherworld violence demanded everyone’s attention.
On Monday, Ari and Ryan, aided by a detective from the eastside unit and by Martin, the other guardian, interviewed witnesses from the two vampire attacks. From the dozens of bystanders, crime scene officers had recommended twelve for further interviews. The barmaid, Feyla Rains, was one of the twelve, but she didn’t add much to her statement from the night before. That kind of set the tone for the day.
As often happens with witnesses, the descriptions of events varied from one person to the next, but there was nothing they hadn’t heard before. Three facts remained constant: the fights had erupted with little warning and no apparent cause; the vampires appeared to be intoxicated, twice described as staggering and foaming at the mouth; and the Canadian werewolves had been at both events. Whether the Canadians had participated, instigated, or been bystanders was an issue for debate.
Surprisingly, witnesses denied seeing drugs or magic use at either crime scene. After talking it over, the four investigators concluded some witnesses must have lied about the drugs for fear of incriminating themselves. The blue capsule was indisputable proof. As predicted, the lab analysis identified the contents as Fantasy, the powerful hallucinogenic that had swept through the human community. The rest of the lab report was unexpected and more alarming. The drug formula was different than previous samples. It contained an additive that defied identification, causing the lab’s computers to display contradictory readings and error messages.
Martin and Ari exchanged looks. “Magic,” she said. “If this substance is affecting Otherworlders, magic is involved. The drug has been cursed or enchanted.”
“You’re joking, right?” This startled question came from the eastside detective. Ryan just shook his head.
“I wish we were.” Martin’s fair skin was paler than usual.
“Why isn’t the crime lab telling us that?” The detective didn’t want to believe them.