Blood Secrets - By Jeannie Holmes Page 0,17
for Mindy to carry around a lot of money?”
“No, but how much is ‘a large amount’?” Allen asked.
“Almost one thousand dollars.”
“Where would she get that kind of money?” Allen looked at his wife, who shook her head.
Tasha scribbled in her notepad. “Did she have a job?”
“No, we paid all her expenses.”
“They also found a donor card bearing Mindy’s name. Were you aware of Mindy’s status as a registered vampire blood donor?”
“Yes,” Allen answered quickly, removing his arm from Leah’s shoulders. “She told us a couple of months ago but she said she wasn’t working anywhere yet because of her class schedule.”
Vampires required small amounts of blood for survival. However, they weren’t allowed to pick random human victims. All blood transactions were closely regulated by a joint effort between the Centers for Disease Control and the FBPI. Humans wanting to give their blood to vampires—and there wasn’t a shortage of willing donors—were required to pass a battery of physical and psychological tests. Once they were deemed fit, their name and information were entered into the Central Donor Registry. They were then required to show a valid donor card to any vampire wanting to hire them as a donor.
It was a practice, regardless of the safeguards that had been implemented over the years, that Tasha simply didn’t understand. She’d heard some donors speak of the rush they got from donating to a vampire. The way they talked it was as though they were addicted to it.
You know something about addiction, don’t you? the nagging voice in her head taunted. You chose me over your husband, your child, even your job. Now look at you. Nothing but a couple of vampires’ lapdog.
She massaged her temple, trying to rub out the voice’s source as she asked, “Did Mindy say who her private recipient was?”
Allen sighed heavily and interlaced his fingers with those of Leah’s free hand.
“I’m not certain I understand your question. Private recipient?” Leah asked.
“Most donors work in blood bars, but there are a few who apply for private donor status, reserving their blood for one vampire only. Mindy’s application carried a private donation waiver.”
Leah gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Allen—”
His hand closed around Leah’s, cutting off her question. “Are you certain it’s our Mindy?”
Tasha nodded, carefully watching the couple’s interactions. “We confirmed all the information with the Central Donor Registry. Unfortunately, her private recipient wasn’t listed.”
“How can they not have that information on record?” Allen asked.
“The Enforcers are looking into it now.”
“It can’t be true,” Leah said, her voice shaky. “It can’t be.”
“Sometimes when kids leave home for the first time, they do impulsive things,” Tasha offered. “Maybe Mindy—”
“No.” Leah shook her head. “Not Mindy. She isn’t like that!”
“She registered without telling us first,” Allen said quietly. He cleared his throat when Leah stared at him. “Why should a private donor be any great shock?”
Leah continued to stare at him in silence.
“Is there anyone you can think of she would’ve told about her private donor, Mr. Johnson?” Tasha asked.
“Her cousin, Piper. She and Mindy are very close. When I saw the two of them a few days before Mindy disappeared, I had the feeling there was something going on, but I didn’t press the issue. I thought Mindy would come to us when she was ready.”
“You saw her?” Leah whispered.
He nodded.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Allen enclosed her hand in both of his. “I didn’t want to upset you. It was in passing. They were sitting in a coffee shop. I was running late for a meeting but I waved. They must not have seen me because—”
“How can you be so calm about all of this?” Leah demanded. “My baby is missing and you’re prattling on like it’s the most common thing!”
“I don’t believe hysterics are going to help bring Mindy home.”
“You bastard.” Leah pulled her hand away from his and stood.
Tasha jerked in her seat with the surprise force of Leah’s hand connecting with her husband’s face. Sobbing, Leah fled the room and up the stairs. The glass panes in the window behind Tasha rattled when a door slammed somewhere on the second floor.
Allen stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning his attention to Tasha. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Leah can be overly emotional at times. Mindy’s our only child, and the stress of the last few days is starting to really take its toll.”
“I understand completely. I have a daughter of my own.”
“How old?”
“She’s thirteen.”
He smiled wanly. “That’s a great but difficult age.”
Tasha sighed, suddenly uncomfortable with