"But you won't, will you?"
He rocked back on his heels. "I reckon not. But you slow down, girl, hear?"
"I will, Augie. Thanks!"
She pulled away from the curb at a sedate speed, then glanced in the rearview mirror.
Augie was still standing beside his police car, watching her.
With a sigh of exasperation, she kept to the speed limit the rest of the way to church.
She was driving home an hour later when she saw Tom Duncan walking down the street. She had a date with him tonight. How could she have forgotten?
Pulling over to the curb, she honked her horn.
He looked her way, frowning, then smiled when he recognized her.
Vicki rolled the window down. "Hi."
He nodded. "Hi yourself. What are you doing out and about so early?"
"Church."
"Ah."
"And why weren't you at Mass this fine morning?" she asked, then blushed. Just because be wore a cross didn't necessarily mean he was Catholic, and even if he was Catholic, that didn't mean he was in the habit of going to church. "I'm sorry, it's none of my business."
Duncan laughed. "Don't worry. My soul's in pretty good shape. I've relied on heavenly intervention far too often to turn my back on the church."
"Really?"
"Faith comes in handy in my line of work."
"I never thought of that, but I'll bet it does. Is there good money in bounty hunting?"
"Sometimes. Depends on who you're hunting and how bad your client wants him caught."
"You mean someone is paying you to hunt for Sharlene's murderer?"
"No. This time it's on me." He glanced at his watch. "Listen, I've got some business to take care of. Are we still on for tonight?"
Vicki nodded. "Sure. See you at six."
With a wave, he continued on down the street.
Vicki was on her way home when she saw Mrs. Heath outside watering her lawn.
After parking the car, Vicki got out and walked up the narrow path. "Morning, Mrs.
Heath."
" Victoria, dear," the older woman said, looking up from beneath the brim of a wide straw hat. "How nice to see you in one piece."
Vicki frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
"I saw you earlier. You were driving your machine way too fast."
"Yes," Vicki said with a wry grin. "Augie thought so, too."
"Oh, dear, I hope that old fool didn't give you a ticket."
"Not this time."
"Well, that's good, though you really should slow down. So, how are you, dear?"
"I'm fine. And guess what?" Vicki could hardly wait to see the expression on Mrs.
Heath's face when she told her about Duncan. "I have a date tonight!"
Mrs. Heath stared at her in what could only be described as alarm. "He doesn't have rusty yellow eyes, does he?"
In spite of the warmth of the sun, Vicki felt a sudden chill crawl over her skin. "Yellow eyes?"
Mrs. Heath placed her hand on Vicki's arm. "I saw him in a dream, dear. A horrid man with yellow eyes. He was knocking at your door." Her hand tightened on Vicki's arm.
"Whatever you do, you must not let him in."
Vicki shivered. "No. No, I won't."
With a smile, Mrs. Heath released her hold on Vicki's arm, then turned off the water.
"Have a good time, dear. And tell me, who's the lucky young man? Is it someone I know?"
"No, he's new in town. I met him at the diner a few days ago. His name is Tom Duncan."
Mrs. Heath's eyes widened. " Duncan? Did you say Tom Duncan?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
Pressing one hand to her heart, Mrs. Heath sat down on the wrought-iron bench located in the midst of her garden. "Forgive me, dear, the name just took me by surprise, that's all."
"Do you know Mr. Duncan?"
"I dated a man by the name of Thomas Duncan years ago, before I met Mr. Heath. I might have married him, if he didn't have such a dreadful occupation."
"Dreadful in what way?" Vicki asked. The only dreadful occupation she could think of was being a mortician.
"He was a vampire hunter."
Feeling as though the earth had suddenly stopped spinning, Vicki stared at Mrs. Heath, and then she laughed. "You really had me going for a minute there."
"It's no laughing matter, dear. It's hard to believe that they exist in this day and age, but they do."
Vicki stared at the elderly woman.
"I know what you're thinking," Mrs. Heath said. "I didn't believe my Thomas when he told me, either, but then one night I saw one." She stared into the distance. "He tried to kill me. I'll never forget the sight of that creature, his eyes glowing like a wildcat's, his fangs coming toward me. It was Thomas who saved my life. I was young back then and easily frightened. When Thomas asked me to marry him, I ran away. Sometimes I wonder…
No matter. What does your Mr. Duncan do?"
"He's a bounty hunter. People," she clarified, "not vampires."
Mrs. Heath patted Vicki's hand in motherly fashion. "Run along and have a good time, dear. It's time for my nap."
With a nod, Vicki returned to her car. Maybe Mrs. Heath was losing it. Vampires, indeed. They were the stuff of myth and legend.
After parking the car, she picked up the newspaper and carried it into the house.
Dropping it on the kitchen table, she fixed herself a bowl of cereal and some toast and then sat down to read the paper.
One look at the headlines and she forgot all about eating.
FOURTH WOMAN FOUND DEAD
BODY DRAINED OF BLOOD
She quickly read the story. The body had been found in a vacant lot in Woods Hollow by a late-night jogger. There was no evidence of foul play. The police were certain that the murderer was the same person who had killed the three women in Pear Blossom Creek.
Bodies drained of blood… She shook her head, dismayed by the turn of her thoughts.
There was no such thing as vampires. She repeated the words aloud, hoping that it would somehow reassure her, but it didn't. Vampires or not, someone was killing women and draining them of blood. Perhaps a Satanic cult was behind the murders.
Didn't they use blood in their rituals? But good Lord, how much blood did one cult need?
She poured her breakfast down the garbage disposal, changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and went into the den to clean the aquarium. And all the while she thought about Tom Duncan and vampires. Of course, she knew there were stories and legends from ancient times, when anything that could not be explained logically was ascribed to something mystical or magical, like vampires or witches. In olden times, people believed that a moved or fallen tombstone, horses shying away from a grave, or footprints leading away from a grave were indications of a vampire's resting place. People with pale skin and long nails, or those who had no appetite and an aversion to bright lights, were also suspected of being vampires.
Others who might be accused of being vampires were those who were never seen during the day or who were reluctant to enter a house without an invitation. Vicki frowned. She had never seen Antonio during the day. He always waited to be invited into her house. She had never seen him eat…
Vicki shook her head in exasperation. She was becoming obsessed with the Undead.
Vampires, indeed. Serial killers often behaved in ghoulish ways. That didn't mean this one was a vampire. Serial killers often killed their victims in bizarre ways, or kept body parts for souvenirs, or collected personal items. This particular killer liked to drain his victims of blood and take a lock of their hair. That didn't mean he drank the blood, but what did he do with it?
She remembered watching a special about vampires and those suspected of being vampires back when she viewed the existence of such things as an interesting myth and not a possible reality. One such, Elizabeth Bathory, had murdered hundreds of young girls and bathed in their blood, believing it would keep her young and beautiful.
Eventually, the truth of what she was doing became known and she was walled up in her bedroom, where she died four years later.
"Stop it!" Going outside, Vicki lifted her face to the sun, letting its warmth wash over her.
She took several deep breaths, clearing her mind of all her ghastly thoughts. Even if there were vampires, and she wasn't ready to admit such a thing, she was safe now.
She spent the next hour and a half working in the yard. She raked the leaves from the lawn, both front and back, pulled some weeds, and watered the grass, thinking she would have to mow it soon. Thinking how nice it would be to have a husband and children to help with the yard work. For a moment, she imagined her husband teaching their son how to mow the grass while she and their daughter worked in the garden.
Later, they would sit in the shade and drink lemonade and then go for a walk in the woods, or go down to the lake for a swim… It came as no surprise that the husband of her dreams looked a lot like Antonio Battista.
Returning to the house, she put an Elvis CD in the stereo, made a cake and put it in the oven, and then fixed a quick sandwich for lunch. When she finished eating, she rolled up her sleeves and mopped the floors in the kitchen and bathroom.
And still, thoughts of vampires and bloodred moons crept into her thoughts. She recalled what Mrs. Heath had said and wondered if Tom Duncan was related to the Duncan that Mrs. Heath had known.
She would have to ask Tom about it when she saw him tonight.
She took the cake out of the oven, changed the sheets on her bed, then frosted the cake, and before she knew it, it was time to get ready for her date.
Standing on Vicki Cavendish's front porch, Tom Duncan straightened his tie, brushed a piece of lint off his trousers, and blew out a deep breath. He couldn't remember the last time he had been out with a woman. Hell, he wasn't sure he even remembered how to act on a date! He spent most of his life prowling around dilapidated houses or crawling around in caves and cemeteries. Hardly the kinds of places where a man was likely to meet a woman he'd want to take out. Then, too, he rarely stayed in one place long enough to get acquainted with very many women, let alone establish any kind of relationship. Of course, he might be here in Pear Blossom Creek for quite some time, since he hadn't found a single clue as to where his prey was hiding.
