The town of Bridgeport loomed ahead. Kenzie Howell gripped the top of her steering wheel as she sucked in her breath. Her heart was pounding, both out of excitement and anxiety, as the town got closer and closer.
Kenzie had received the news two days ago. She’d been in her private office at the police station, wrapping up a case, when her boss, Elliott Warren, had come in and informed her that she’d been asked by the Bridgeport police to help solve a string of crimes.
This was no surprise to Kenzie. She was always being asked to solve various cases in her home town of Riverview, but she genuinely enjoyed doing it. Ever since she was a young teenager and saw her first crime show on TV, she knew she wanted to be a detective. Her specialty was finding evidence and putting criminals away. At the age of 23, she was one of the youngest investigators, but also one of the best. Her title of Pervasive Private Eye earned her the respect of Riverview, and word of her talents had spread as far as Barnacle Bay.
“What’s the case in Bridgeport?” Kenzie had asked Elliott.
“There have been very strange happenings there lately. I’m sure you know by now that vampires live in Bridgeport, though a few have migrated elsewhere. The town suspects a vampire is at work with what’s going on.”
“Well, what exactly is going on?”
“Bodies have been found drained of their blood, and I’m sure you’ll understand why people think vampires are responsible.”
“Sir, I’m a detective, not a vampire hunter.”
“I’m aware of that, and I even told Bridgeport’s police chief that. But he said not to worry, that he has someone on the inside to help you out.”
“What do you mean on the inside?”
“Well he didn’t want to explain it over the phone, so I didn’t give him any promises except to consult you about it.”
Kenzie leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. She’d never turned down a case, but vampires weren’t exactly her specialty. She looked at the wolf light on her wall and let out a chuckle.
“There is one other problem,” she said. “I’m a wolf person. Vampires and werewolves are arch enemies.”
Elliott chuckled too. “I doubt they’ll care about that. This police chief called up asking about you because he heard all about you from the newspaper. Obviously he thinks you’re the only one capable of getting to the bottom of this.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it; I just don’t know how well this will work out. But I’ll do my best.”
“So you accept the case?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right then. Should I call the chief back or do you want to?”
“I’ll do it myself. It will better if he hears it from me.”
“Your call.”
Elliott wrote the Bridgeport chief’s phone number on a nearby notepad and left Kenzie’s office, closing the door behind him. Kenzie picked up the phone and called Chief Carson Tobias.
Now, Kenzie was turning into the Bridgeport public services office, which held the city hall, military base, and police station, and parking her plum colored Requiescence. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, stepped out, locked the car, and walked up the stairs to the entrance. Inside, there were signs pointing visitors into the appropriate directions. Kenzie followed the path to the right, where signs informed her was the direction of the police station.
Once she passed through a door, a check-in desk was waiting for her.
“Can I help you?” the middle-aged woman in uniform asked.
“Yes, I’m Kenzie Howell, and I’m here to see Carson Tobias.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“Yes, he is.”
“One moment please while I inform him that you’re here.”
Kenzie nodded and the woman picked up the phone and dialed an extension.
“Yes chief, I have a woman here named Kenzie Howell. She says you’re expecting her.”
The chief said something inaudible on the phone. The woman nodded and hung up. “Right this way please,” she said as she stood up.
Kenzie followed the woman down a hallway until she stopped at the fourth door on the left. After knocking, they were both invited inside.
A man who appeared to be in his 50s stood up from behind a big wooden desk and extended his hand.
“You must be Kenzie Howell. I’m Chief Carson Tobias.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kenzie said, placing her hand in the chief’s.
“Please, sit down,” Carson invited. Kenzie complied. Carson sat down behind his desk and withdrew a file from a nearby cabinet.
“I know we spoke on the phone, but perhaps we should go over a few more things with some pictures,” he said.
“All right, what do you have?”
Carson handed over the file folder. “You’ll see photos of the victims in there. As you can see, the bodies look pretty grotesque. They’re very pale and look dried up, which is what happens if there are no fluids inside.”
“You’re right, this is pretty gross.”
“Also, note the puncture marks on the necks. They’re consistent with fangs, which is why we know a vampire is responsible.”
“Could this have been faked?”
“Maybe, but why else would someone want blood from an entire human body, let alone several?”
“Good question. I’d normally say maybe someone is trying to frame a vampire but I can’t think of any reason why anyone would want all that blood. Have there been autopsies?"
“Yes, the coroner confirmed that all victims died from loss of blood, and that the marks on the necks are from fangs.”
“So that means the victims were alive as their blood was being, er, withdrawn.”
“We’ve had some other people on this case but no one’s been able to turn up anything. One day I was reading the newspaper and came across an article about you. The publishers were kind enough to leave the number for the police station in Riverview. So I gave your boss a call. I should go ahead and thank you for even coming here.”
“You’re welcome, but like I said, vampires aren’t exactly my specialty.”
“I know that, and that’s why you'll have some help.”
“You mentioned that on the phone too, but you didn’t say what that meant exactly.”
“Yes, I figured it would be better for you to meet our specialist in person.”
“Specialist?”
“Yes, we have a vampire specialist. When anything involving a vampire comes up, we give him a call.”
“And what makes him such a vampire specialist? Does he study them?”
“Not exactly.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Carson said. The door opened and a young man who looked about Kenzie’s age walked in. He was wearing a leather jacket over a blue sweatshirt and tie with black jeans and boots. His hair was jet black and his eyes a startling shade of blue-silver, while his skin was chalk white. In his right hand was a briefcase.
“Isaiah,” Carson said, standing up. “I’d like you to meet Kenzie Howell, the detective from Riverview.”
Kenzie stood up and took Isaiah’s outstretched hand in hers. She couldn’t contain a jump as she felt how cold his skin was. Looking into his eyes, she understood without the chief’s next words why Isaiah was Bridgeport’s vampire specialist.
“Kenzie, this is Isaiah Fleming, our vampire expert. Who better to have for that job than a real vampire?
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