Dead Spots (Scarlett Bernard #1)(39)

While she was getting Cruz’s change, I scanned the people at the bar.

“There,” I said, nudging him and nodding discreetly toward a completely bald, bearded man wearing a ribbed tank top under a khaki button-down shirt. The guy had left the shirt open to display a not-so-small paunch. He was with three others, telling an animated story while they laughed. The ringleader.

“I got this one,” Cruz told me under his breath.

I shrugged.

Cruz walked right up to Rucker and pulled out his badge. “Mr. Rucker? Could I have a word with you?”

Rucker’s mouth dropped open in the middle of a sentence. When he recovered, his face smoothed back into alpha-geek mode. “I guess,” he said casually, as if he consulted on police cases every day. He nodded to his friends, who retreated to a far corner of the barroom to gossip.

After they’d left, I went up and dropped onto a stool beside Rucker. Cruz took the other side again.

“What do the police want with me?” Rucker asked, a little pompously. “Am I behind on my gas and electric or something?”

“Actually,” Cruz replied, putting away his badge, “we’re looking into some murders that happened in La Brea Park the other night. Did you hear about that?”

Rucker sobered instantly. “Yes,” he said. “We heard. It’s terrible.”

“We’re looking for the three human servants of the vampires that died,” I added. I recited their names again. “Do you know any of them?”

But Rucker was peering at my face. “I know who you are,” he said, “but who is this guy? How much does he know?” His voice was sharp, suddenly edgy. Human servants are conditioned very hard not to talk about their extracurricular activities. It’s the first rule of Vampire Club.

“He’s with me, and Dashiell okayed it,” I told him, trying to look stern.

I don’t think stern is my best look, but his eyes widened when I said the name Dashiell, as if I’d said we were on a mission from God. Which probably wasn’t far off, from Rucker’s point of view. He took a quick gulp of his cranberry-vodka and nodded.

“I know all of them.” He pursed his lips, thinking. “But I don’t think they can help. Grottum and Myles split town, from what I heard.”

“Why?” Cruz asked. “Did they think they were in danger?”

Rucker shrugged. “They didn’t know. None of us in the community”—he twirled a finger to include the other vampire freaks in the bar—“know why those guys were killed, so why risk it? Probably, they just wanted to play it safe.”

“Do you know where they went?”

“No.”

“What about the other one?” I asked. “Freedner.”

“He’s still around, I think. But I doubt he can tell you anything I can’t.” There was a note of broken pride in his voice, which Cruz picked up on.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

Rucker’s face blanched, and he huddled into himself a little. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Cruz glanced at me. I took the hint.

“James,” I said carefully, “were you Abraham’s human servant, too?”

And just that quickly, the last traces of bravado vanished and the bald man’s eyes began to shine a little. Deflated, he looked down into his drink and made a snuffling noise, mumbling, “Don’t tell nobody. I got a wife.”

I worked to keep my expression even. I didn’t know what a normal human would see in this guy, much less a vampire who could have his pick of the groupies.

“We won’t,” Cruz promised.

“Me and Freedner talked the day after, you know, the bodies. He was the one who called Dashiell when Abe didn’t show up for their plans. But neither of us know a damn thing about why they got killed. Abe wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary—that we knew about—and nobody had threatened him.”

“Was there anyone who would have wanted Abraham dead?” I asked. “Anyone who hated him?”

“No. Abe was...He was very calm, you know? Like, a nice guy. I know he was a vamp and all, but it’s hard to see anyone wanting to kill him. That’s why he did such good work. He kept the peace.”

I looked over at Cruz. He had this look on his face like wheels were turning.

“Did you two know about each other?” he asked. “You and Freedner?”

“Oh, sure. There was...ah...a bit of a rivalry for Abe’s attention, but it was friendly. Tom works third shift, and I keep daytime hours, so we were able to split up the nights okay. Tom was with Abe in the early evening, and I had the early morning when everyone was asleep.”

“James,” Cruz said quietly, “where were you two nights ago? Around three a.m.?”

Rucker’s eyes narrowed, calculating, and I saw Cruz’s hand drift slowly back toward his hip. But then Rucker relaxed. “Hey! That was the night my wife and me, we’d gone down to San Diego to visit our son.” He looked at me. “He’s a freshman at San Diego State, doing real good.”

“Can you prove you were there?” Cruz prompted.

“There will be credit card records and stuff from the trip, and the hotel we stayed at—the Holiday Inn by campus—they might remember me ‘cause I chatted with the guy about the free cookies in the lobby.” He peered suspiciously at Cruz. “You’re not gonna question my wife, are you?”