I thought it might be nice to have two monster experts."
"It might. Freemont said Larry lost his lunch all over the crime scene."
"He didn't throw up on the crime scene, just near it."
There was a moment of silence. "Better than throwing up on the body."
"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"
"No," Dolph said, "you aren't."
"Great. Larry and I will get out there as soon as we can. It's about a thirty-minute drive, maybe more."
"I'll tell Sheriff St. John you're on your way." He hung up.
I hung up. Dolph was training me never to say good-bye over the phone.
Chapter 11
Larry slumped in the seat as far as the seat belt would let him. His hands were clenched tight in his lap. He stared out into the dark like he was seeing something besides the passing scenery. Images of butchered teenagers dancing in his head, I bet. They weren't dancing in mine. Not yet. I might see them in my dreams, but not awake, not yet.
"How bad will this one be?" he asked. His voice sounded quiet, strained.
"I don't know. It's a vampire victim. Could be neat, just a couple of puncture wounds; could be carnage."
"Carnage like the three boys?"
"Dolph said no, said it's classic, just bite marks."
"So it won't be messy?" His voice was squeezed down to a near whisper.
"Won't know until we get there," I said.
"You couldn't just comfort me?" His voice sounded so small, so uncertain that I almost offered to turn the Jeep around. He didn't have to see another murder scene. It was my job, but it wasn't his job, not yet.
"You don't ever have to see another murder scene, Larry."
He turned his head and looked at me. "What do you mean?"
"You've had your quota of blood and guts for one day. I can turn around and drop you back at the hotel."
"If I don't come tonight, what happens next time?"
"If you aren't cut out for this kind of work, you aren't cut out for it. No shame in that."
"What about next time?" he asked.
"There won't be a next time."
"You aren't getting rid of me that easy," he said.
I hoped the darkness hid the smile on my face. I kept it small.
"Tell me about vampires, Anita. I thought a vampire couldn't drink enough blood in one night to kill somebody."
"Pretty to think so," I said.
"They told us in college that a vampire couldn't drain a human being with one bite. Are you saying that's not true?"
"They can't drink a human dry with one bite, in one night, but they can drain one with one bite."
He frowned at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"They can pierce the flesh and drain the blood without drinking it."
"How?" he asked.
"Just put the fangs in, start the blood flow, and let the blood fall down your body onto the ground."
"But that's not taking blood for food, that's just murder," Larry said.
"And your point is?" I said.
"Hey, isn't that our turnoff?"
I caught a glimpse of the road sign. "Damn." I slowed down, but couldn't see over the crest of the hill. I didn't dare U-turn until I was sure there were no cars coming the other way. It was another half mile before we came to a gravel road. There was a row of mailboxes beside the road.
Trees grew so close to the road that even winter-bare they covered the one-lane road in shadows. There was no place to turn around. Hell, if a second car had come, one of us would have had to back up.
The road rose up and up, as if it were going to go straight into the sky. At the crest of the hill I could see nothing in front of the car. I had to simply trust that there was more road in front of us, rather than some endless precipice.
"Jesus, this is steep," Larry said.
I eased the Jeep forward and the tires touched road. My shoulders loosened just a little. There was a house just up ahead. The porch light was on, like they were expecting company. The bare light bulb was not kind. The house was unpainted wood with a rusting tin roof. Its raised porch sagged under the weight of the front seat of a car that was sitting by the screen door. I turned around in the dirt in front of the house that passed for a front yard. It looked like we weren't the first car to do it. There were deep wheel ruts in the powder-dry dirt from years