"Cal Rupert?" she asked.
"That's what his friends called him," I said, "Why?"
She shook her head. "I know a Cal Rupert."
I watched her and let my body do the exercise without me. I was holding my breath, which is bad. I remembered to breathe and said, "Tell me."
"When I was asking questions around Humans Against Vampires during that rash of vampire deaths. Cal Rupert belonged to HAV."
"Describe him for me."
"Blond, blue or grey eyes, not too tall, well built, attractive."
There might be more than one Cal Rupert in St. Louis, but what were the odds that they'd look that much alike? "I'll have Dolph check it out, but if he was a member of HAV, it might mean the vampire kill was an execution."
"What do you mean?"
"Some of HAV thinks the only good vampire is a dead vampire." I was thinking of Humans First, Mr. Jeremy Ruebens's little group. Had they killed a vampire already? Was this retaliation?
"I need to know if Cal was still a member of HAV or if he'd joined a new, more radical group called Humans First."
"Catchy," Ronnie said.
"Can you find out for me? If I go down there asking questions, they'll burn me at the stake."
"Always glad to help my best friend and the police at the same time. A private detective never knows when having the police owe you one may come in handy."
"True," I said.
I got to wait for Ronnie this time. On leg machines she was faster. Upper body was my area. "I'll call Dolph as soon as we're finished here. Maybe it's a pattern? A hell of a coincidence if it's not."
We started around the track and Ronnie said, "So, have you decided what you're wearing to Catherine's Halloween party?"
I glanced at her, nearly stumbling. "Shit," I said.
"I take that to mean you forgot about the party. You were bitching about it only two days ago."
"I've been a little busy, okay?" I said. But it wasn't all right. Catherine Maison-Gillett was one of my best friends. I'd worn a pink prom dress with puff sleeves in her wedding. It had been humiliating. We'd all told the great lie of all bridesmaids. We could cut the dress short and wear it in normal life. No way. Or I could wear it at the next formal occasion I was invited to. How many formals are you invited to once you graduate college? None. At least none where I'd willingly wear a pink, puff-sleeved, hoop-skirted, reject from Gone With the Wind.
Catherine was throwing her very first party since the wedding. The Halloween festivities started long before dark so that I could make an appearance. When someone goes to that much trouble, you have to show up. Dammit.
"I made a date for Saturday," I said.
Ronnie stopped running and stared at me in the mirror. I kept running; if she wanted to ask questions she'd have to catch me first. She caught me.
"Did you say date?"
I nodded, saving my breath for running.
"Talk, Anita." Her voice was vaguely threatening.
I grinned at her and told her an edited version of my meeting with Richard Zeeman. I didn't leave out much, though.
"He was na**d in a bed the first time you saw him?" She was cheerfully outraged.
I nodded.
"You do meet men in the most interesting places," she said.