her.
Joe anticipated the question. “I compete with the local grocery on wine, beer, and soda prices. Keeps folks coming in.”
“Did he always come at the same time, the same night of the week? Enough so anyone would notice?”
“Not particularly, but he or both of them were here often enough. And it being July 4th and all…”
“He was expected,” Ari finished.
They all nodded, mumbled agreement. “Lots of people could have guessed,” one of the older customers emphasized.
“Including Eddie?” Ari persisted.
“Well, yeah, if he thought about it.” Joe’s face was solemn. “Suppose so.” His shoulders tensed, as if he’d taken a poke and expected another. He didn’t like the questions that might damage Eddie, and Ari liked him for it.
She changed the subject. “What about other enemies? Fights? Someone who resented Jules coming in the bar?”
Heads shook in the negative. “Never saw him even have an argument,” one of the men said. “He was pretty well accepted.”
“Of course, there’s people who fear and dislike all vampires,” Joe said. “But no bad talk in my bar. Everybody’s welcome here, if they behave themselves. Jules was an OK guy. Not sure I’d want him to date my daughter, but a good customer.”
“Full of great stories,” the older woman piped in. “Knew a lot of history first hand. And I liked the way he treated Lorraine. Protective, you know? I understand why Eddie was upset, but Jules took good care of her.”
“Jules and Lorraine must have had some disagreements. Could this be a lovers’ fight?”
“Lord, no!” the woman said without hesitation. She looked at Ari with her mouth rounded in protest. “That sweet kid? She was crazy about him. Not a bad word between them.”
“What about former boyfriends of Lorraine? A jealous ex? Anyone?”
Ari’s questions were met with shrugs and blank faces.
“I must be confused,” said the young man seated next to her. “Why are you asking about other enemies? I thought Eddie confessed.”
“It’s routine. We’re still looking for answers. For instance, the missing gun. If you remember or hear anything that could help us find it, please give me a call.” Ari handed out her business cards.
The young man pocketed the card with a frown. “Still don’t get it. You act like Eddie might be innocent. Why would he admit to the shooting, if he wasn’t guilty?”
Ari raised her eyebrows. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
* * *
Ari would have recognized Lorraine West anywhere. She was the feminine version of her brother. Small frame, copper curls, turned-up nose liberally sprinkled with freckles. Seated on an over-stuffed brown and ivory sofa, Lorraine was dwarfed by the large man holding her hands. They both turned to look when Lorraine’s mother ushered Ari into the apartment’s living room and introduced her.
“Sorry to intrude,” Ari said. “Difficult time, I know.”
Lorraine nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She withdrew her hands from the man’s clasp, placing them in her lap. Her blue eyes were red around the edges, puffy. She clutched a damp tissue.
The forty-something man stood and stepped forward. Dark brown hair carefully combed to one side framed his round face. Affable appearance, yet intense gray eyes met Ari’s inquiring look.
“Ms. Calin,” he acknowledged. “Harold Shale.”
He stuck out his hand, which Ari accepted. Brief handshake, practiced smile, slight tingle of some kind of energy. Her witch senses went on alert. He had a neutral aura. Weird.
“Harold was our counselor,” Lorraine said, as if that explained it all.
Ari relaxed. It did explain the tingle. Most human counselors had at least some latent psychic power; maybe that’s what led them into their career. Some were aware; many were not. She wondered which category fit this man.
“What type of counseling do you do?” She returned his direct gaze.
“Shale and Associates. We offer relationship counseling for human clients and their Otherworld partners.” He broke the brief eye contact and turned to Eddie’s sister. “I must be going, Lorraine, but please call me if there is anything I can do.”
“Thank you so much for coming,” she said softly, dutifully. Ari figured she’d repeated those same words many times.
Ari stopped the counselor before he could leave. “I may need to chat with you at some point.”
“About Jules? I’m not sure how much I can tell you.” He frowned, creasing his forehead into deep lines. “Our sessions are confidential, you understand. I can’t betray a client’s privacy.”
“It’s all right, Howard,” Lorraine interrupted. “Please tell her whatever she needs to know. I don’t mind, and I want the murderer found.”
“But Lorraine,” he began, then stopped.
Ari waited for him to