Page 25 of The Keepers

Page 25

 

  It sounded as if he thought the latter would be far worse than murder.

  "No. No, that's not what I mean at all. I'm just trying to find out what happened, that's all," Fiona said firmly.

  "Are you a cop or something?" he asked.

  "No, my sister and I are just concerned local businesswomen with an interest in keeping our city safe," Shauna said, walking up to join them.

  "Hey, Jude, Shauna!"

  The call came from the steps of the frat house, breaking into the awkward conversation. The young man who walked over to join them had long dark hair, neatly kept, and a slender, attractive face. He was tall and lean, and Shauna greeted him with pleasure.

  "Jimmy!" she called.

  Werewolf. Fiona knew it instantly.

  Jimmy smiled and shook hands when Shauna introduced him to Fiona.

  "Jimmy, Fiona thinks Billy Harrington is a necrophiliac," Jude said with horror.

  "I did not say any such thing," Fiona said firmly.

  "Come on, I'll show you two the house," Jimmy offered, drawing them away from Jude.

  "Thanks," Fiona murmured in gratitude, grateful for the chance to get away from Jude Andre, as well as the chance to see the house.

  "Wrong dude to be talking to if you want useful answers," Jimmy explained to the two of them once they were out of earshot. "Jude is an all right guy, but he loves two things--his sax and his weed. He's not exactly living in the real world, if you know what I mean. "

  Jimmy had a nice grin--it dimpled his cheeks.

  "Were you at the party?" Fiona asked him.

  He nodded gravely, pushing open the door. The frat house was painted white, and the door had a beautiful cut-glass oval that sparkled in the light of the setting sun.

  Fiona noticed a strange dark substance coating the door.

  Jimmy shrugged. "The crime-scene people kind of got carried away. . . dusting for prints. "

  "They had to. They're looking for the prints that don't belong," Fiona said.

  "Well, they have their work cut out for them. There were a lot of people at that party. And did you know we all had to go down to the station for an interview today? We're all missing classes, and we didn't even do anything. "

  "Jimmy Douglas, you know it's imperative that the police find the killer," Shauna said.

  Jimmy lowered his head and spoke quietly. "We all know the killer's a vampire, so Jagger needs to be interviewing vampires, and that's that. And I intend to say so at the meeting tonight. Anyway, come on upstairs--I see Nathan, Billy's roommate. I'm sure you'll want to talk to him. "

  Fiona glanced at Shauna, and then they hurried up the stairs in Jimmy's wake. Nathan was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, a book in his hands. As they approached, he looked up, saw the two women and smiled.

  "Hey, I know you two. You run that supernatural shop in the Quarter. I was there with about ten guys a couple of weeks ago. They sure don't have anything like that in Indiana, where I come from. "

  "Nathan, these are my friends, Shauna and Fiona MacDonald," Jimmy said.

  Nathan struggled to his feet. He looked like he was from Indiana. Corn-fed and strapping, with wheat colored hair and bright blue eyes. "Nice to meet you formally. "

  "They're here about Abigail," Jimmy said.

  "Oh. " He looked at them gravely. "What happened to her was. . . horrible. "

  "Did you see anyone with her? Was she flirting with anyone, or was anyone trying to flirt with her? Did she leave with someone, and do you remember when she left?" Fiona asked.

  "The cops asked me that, too. I saw her and all, but I don't think she was flirting. She wasn't the type. "

  "Did you see Billy Harrington that night?" Fiona asked.

  A strange expression crossed his face. "The cops asked that, too. He said he wasn't going to be here, but somehow. . . I have the impression that he was, only I don't actually remember seeing him or talking to him. Bizarre, huh? He's in our room. Poor guy--he's all ripped up over this. "

  "I'll go see him," Fiona said, and turned to Shauna.

  "Can you talk to Nathan? Thanks. " Then she walked over to Billy's door and tapped gently.

  "Yeah?" She heard Billy's muffled voice.

  "It's Fiona. "

  The door opened, and he practically dragged her into the room.

  Billy was clean and neatly dressed, the complete antithesis of a man in deep mourning. "Fiona, oh my God, they think I'm in mourning. I'm crawling the walls. I have to see her. I'm terrified. I don't know what she and David are doing, what the police are doing. . . . I'm going insane here. "

  "I'm sorry," she said. "But you'll just have to pull yourself together and keep going. Listen, this is serious. A lot of people think you were at that party--even though you said you had to go into the Quarter and wouldn't make it. "

  He was indignant. "I told you--I wasn't at the party!"

  She sighed. He sounded so sincere.

  "Even your roommate, who certainly doesn't seem to be out to get you, has the impression you were there. "

  "And I just told you, I wasn't there," he insisted.

  "Damn it, Fiona! You know how I feel about Abigail. "

  "Do you love her enough to want to keep her by your side for all time?" It was the only motive for murder she'd been able to come up with for him, but she had to admit, it made a certain amount of sense.

  He drew himself up stiffly. "I would never have turned her. Ever. I swear it. And you know why? Because I would never damn someone I love to the uncertainty every vampire faces every day. "

  He sounded so sincere.

  Then again, she'd seen him act.

  An impression. The other kids had an impression.

  No one knew for a fact that they had seen him.

  "I'm innocent. I swear it. "

  "All right, Billy. Just stay in here as long as you can--alone," Fiona said. "I'll see you at the meeting tonight. "

  He nodded, and she slipped back out.

  She and Shauna spent another hour talking to the kids from the party, but except for a few more who had the vague sense that they'd seen Billy, they didn't come up with anything useful. Finally they decided to call it a day and left.

  As they walked across the yard toward their car, they saw a pretty girl heading toward the frat house.

  Fiona stopped her. "Hi. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

  The girl, who had blond hair and big blue eyes, stopped, a sad and slightly weary expression on her face.

  "Are you undercover cops here to ask about Abigail?" she asked. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I've been asked the same questions over and over again, and it just. . . hurts. Abigail was a friend. A bit of an airhead, but a friend. "

  "Did you see her with anyone at the party?" Fiona asked.

  "No one in particular. She was just mingling, talking to people, having fun. You know how, when you start out in college, every boy is a mystery waiting to be explored? But then after a while the boys are just boys, except maybe for one you really like. "

  "Right," Fiona said. "And Abigail really liked Billy Harrington. "

  "Yes, exactly," the girl said, then frowned suddenly.

  "What is it?"

  "I had a weird dream that night. Maybe I was worried about her. "

  "What was your dream?" Fiona asked.

  The girl laughed, looking a little embarrassed. "I dreamed that I saw her walking down the steps and out toward the street, looking tired--but happy, too. " She shook her head, as if to clear it.

  "I could see the veins in the leaves on the trees. It was really freaky. And then. . . there was some boy, hurrying to catch up to her. "

  "Did you tell that to the police?" Fiona asked.

  The girl laughed again. "Hell no! You don't tell the police about a dream. "

  "Did you recognize the boy who was about to catch up with her?"


  "Yes, of course. "

  "And who was it?" Fiona asked. "Billy Harrington. "

  Chapter 10

  The staff had been apprised that Underworld would be closing early that night, with last call being given soon after 2:00 a. m. The ostensible reason was that the place was set for a massive cleaning. Since David was known for the high standards he applied to the place, it wasn't a stretch.

  Earlier, Jagger had left most of the conversations with the cult members to Tony Miro and the other officers, and moved on to the frat house. He'd been irritated to discover that Fiona and Shauna had been there ahead of him. And he'd been genuinely disturbed to learn how many people thought they might have seen Billy Harrington that night.

  No doubt Fiona and Shauna had heard the same information--and maybe more. He could certainly see how a bunch of hormone-addled teenage boys might have opened up to a pair of gorgeous sisters who were so concerned for the safety of the community, and who were ignoring the fact that people shouldn't have been opening up to them at all. They didn't have any right to question anyone.

  At 10:00 p. m. he'd called Tony and told him to go home at last. His partner was going above and beyond, and he was sorry that, to maintain appearances, he was causing his partner to waste hours of work that he knew would bring them no closer to finding the killer.

  He rationalized the situation by telling himself that at least now they had a lot of information on record that might be of use in the future.

  He was heading back to the French Quarter, planning to arrive at Underworld well ahead of time when he picked up a sound, some kind of a thud, coming from the cemetery off Canal.

  Jerking his car to a halt, he looked around carefully. Seeing no one, he got out of the car and leaped effortlessly to the top of the wall, where he hunkered down, searching the rows of mausoleums and monuments in the darkened city of the dead.

  Another thud.

  His eyes quickly darted in that direction, and then he jumped down and started running toward the location of the sound.