The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires(104)

“I assume there’s a reason we’re here,” Kitty said to Slick.

Slick nodded to Patricia, giving her the floor.

“We need to talk about James Harris,” Patricia began.

“I just remembered someplace I need to be,” Grace said, standing.

“Grace, I need you to hear this,” Patricia said.

“I came because Slick called,” Grace said, looping her purse over one shoulder. “I will not do this again. Now, excuse me.”

“I was wrong,” Patricia said. That stopped Grace. “I was wrong about James Harris. I thought he was a drug dealer and I misled all of you. And I’m sorry.”

Grace’s body relaxed slightly, and she leaned back toward her chair.

“That’s big of you,” Maryellen said. “But we were all responsible. We let those books get to our head.”

“He isn’t a drug dealer,” Patricia said. “He’s a vampire.”

Kitty looked like she was about to throw up. Grace’s face turned dark and ugly. Maryellen uttered a single bark of laughter and said, “What?”

“Slick,” Patricia said. “Tell them what happened.”

“I was…attacked,” Slick said, and instantly her eyes turned red and wet. “By James Harris…Patricia and Mrs. Greene…had a photograph that…belonged to Carter’s mother…It showed James Harris…in 1928…looking exactly the same…as he does now.”

“I do have to go,” Grace said.

“Grace,” Slick said. “If we were…ever friends…I need you to hear me now.”

Grace didn’t say anything, but she stopped edging toward the door.

“I had…the photograph and clippings…Mrs. Greene collected,” Slick continued. “Patricia came to me…because she and Mrs. Greene thought it proved…he was Satan’s agent…They wanted to go into his house…find evidence that he’d hurt children…but my pride was great…and I went to him and tried to bargain…I told him if he left town…I’d destroy the photograph and keep his secret…he attacked me…he forced himself on me…His…I’m sorry.” She tilted her head back so her tears didn’t cause her makeup to run. Patricia handed her a crumpled tissue and Slick dabbed it beneath her eyes. “His discharge…made me sick. No one knows what it’s doing inside me…the doctors don’t know…I didn’t tell anyone what he did…because…he said as long as I kept quiet…he wouldn’t hurt my children.”

“Mrs. Greene and I went into his house,” Patricia said, picking up from Slick. “We found Francine’s corpse packed in a suitcase and shoved in his attic. I’m sure he’s gotten rid of it by now.”

“This is in poor taste,” Grace said. “Francine was a human being. To use her death as part of your fantasy is grotesque.”

Patricia pulled out the snapshot she’d taken the night before. It showed Korey’s thigh. The flash made the bruise and puncture mark livid against her washed-out skin. She held it out to Grace.

“He did this to Korey,” she said.

“What’d he do to her?” Kitty asked, softly, trying to see.

“He seduced her behind my back,” Patricia said. “For months he’s been seducing my daughter, grooming her, feeding on her, and making her think she liked it. He says he has a condition where he has to use a person to clean his blood, like dialysis. Apparently it creates a euphoric feeling in the person. They become addicted.”

“It’s the same mark they found on the children in Six Mile,” Mrs. Greene said.

“It’s the same mark Ben said they found on Ann Savage after she died,” Patricia said.

“I thought he would leave our children alone if I kept quiet,” Slick said. “But he took Korey. He could come after any one of us next. His hunger knows no limits.”

“Before we just had suspicions,” Patricia said. “Francine was gone. Orville Reed killed himself, Destiny Taylor killed herself. But Kitty and I saw Francine’s body in his attic. He attacked Slick. He attacked my daughter. He’s grooming Blue. He wants me.”

“Did you really see Francine’s body in his attic?” Maryellen asked Kitty.

Kitty looked down at her paper-shrouded knees.

“Tell her,” Patricia said.

“He’d broken her arms and legs to stuff her inside a suitcase,” Kitty said.

“How much more evidence do we need that none of us are safe?” Patricia asked. “The men all think he’s their best friend, but he’s taken everything he wanted right out from under our noses. How long do we wait before we do something? He is preying on our children.”

“Call me old-fashioned,” Grace snapped. “But first you tell the police he’s a child molester. Then you tell us he’s a drug dealer. Now you say he’s Count Dracula. Your fantasies have come at a great cost to the rest of us, Patricia. Do you know what happened to me?”

“I know,” Patricia said through gritted teeth. “I know, I messed up. Oh, God, Grace, I know I messed up and I am being punished for it, but we ran away when things got hard. And now we’ve waited so long that I don’t think there’s a normal way to get rid of him. I think he’s ingrained himself too deeply into the Old Village.”