Chapter 11.

  Scott was on a ride along with Hank in the passenger seat of the CAR. It was technically his first day on the job, and Scott struggled a bit to find comfort in his blue CSI Windbreaker. He was fiddling with the department issued digital camera he was given. Earlier in the day he had taken a few nature shots, adjusted the levels, did everything he could do it would be at the ready if work called and he needed to get a shot of some stiff that Hank may be unfortunate enough to find in the line the duty.

  It was lunch, and the two enjoyed that Carolina classic. Barbeque sandwiches with accompanying sauces.

  “Did you get the Sweet Tomato?” Scott asked as he ran the last bite of his sandwich in his dipping cup before taking his finishing bite.

  “No, that’s too sweet for me, I got the mustard and vinegar. Real barbeque sauce doesn’t need sugar, it’s sacrilege,” Hank said as he took another bite of his.

  “Might be wrong, but it tastes so right,” Scott said, running his finger around his mouth and sucking the last bit of red sauce off his finger.

  “Sweet sauces cheat, they trick you into thinking they’re good, true barbeque is all about savory, how have you not figured that out yet?” Hank asked.

  “Your taste explains the girls you’re into,” Scott said, “How are things going with Bloody Valentine?” Scott asked.

  “I think good,” Hank said, trying to reassure himself, “I mean, it’s still a work primary relationship, but I think inroads are being made, dinner was fun. I learned a lot about her, she’s just as amazing as I thought she was. We’ve been texting, mostly about the case, but sometimes about personal lives, it’s a process, you can’t just take a girl like this to Olive Garden and see if the deal is done, it’s going to take time,” Hank said.

  “Could be worse, she could want to take you to Vampire themed cocktail parties like my current lady,” Scott said.

  “You’re really going to pursue this, from what you told me these parties sound like a bunch of nonsense,” Hank said, “You really going to another one next week?” he asked.

  “It’s weird as hell, but they are fun. Though I haven’t figured out how to get past the Damane level, Amelia says I’m going to have to earn it. This girl is making me work for it, I can tell you that,” Scott said.

  “Damane? What the hell is a Damane?” Hank asked.

  “You’re going to laugh your ass off,” Scott chuckled and shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation, “It means I’m her slave, I’m allowed to hang out with the Vampires with her permission, but I haven’t been given the privilege of becoming a true Vampire myself yet,” Scott said.

  “You’re her slave?” Hank asked, “Is this one of those deals that involve leather bindings and getting punished for being naughty?” Hank asked.

  “No, it’s not like that, at least it doesn’t look like it’s like that, but with how crazy this group is I wouldn’t rule that out as a possibility, yet,” Scott said.

  “You’re not worried getting in over your head?” Hank asked.

  “Hey,” Scott said, defensively, “I’m a man of the world, I’m open to new things, she wants to bring out the leather and whips, fuck it, it’ll be a life experience,” Scott said, “It’ll be good for my writing.”

  “This girl better be pretty, she better be damn pretty,” Hank said.

  “You haven’t seen this girl, I mean, her hair, her eyes, damn. You take one look at her and you’ll see why I’m putting up with this nonsense,” Scott said, cleaning the last bit of sauce from his fingers.

  The conversation was interrupted by a ping on Hank’s radio, “Dispatch, need an officer for a 187” Hank grabbed his mic and responded. “Officer Tavares responding, what’s going on?” he said.

  “We have a 187 at 343 Caliber Court, Officer Kramer requesting Officer Tavares on the scene,”

  “Give me twenty,” Hank said before hanging up his radio and getting into work mode.

  “What’s a 187?” Scott asked.

  “Murder, and Kramer’s there, looks like you might have some work today,” Hank said as he pulled out of his parking spot and hit his siren to make way to the south end.

  “Did she say Caliber Court, that address sounds familiar, wait a minute,” Scott turned to Hank as he weaved through traffic to get on the 485, “That party I was at last Friday, the house was on Caliber Court,” Scott said.

  “South side, rich area, sounds familiar. Fuck, I got a bad feeling about this,” Hank said.

  “You know, I think I should mention this. Some people at this party, the Vampires, I overheard some of them talking, that first crime scene you were at, the fucking satanic one,” Scott said, “They were taking credit for it, saying they were the ones who did it,” Scott said.

  “People confessed to murdering someone, and you didn’t think it appropriate to bring it to the attention of the head of the investigation?”

  “Amelia said it was just part of the game, called it grim humor, I must have heard at least three different people take credit for the murder, thought nothing of it at the time,” Scott said, “Just some grim fun, I mean, it’s a bunch of dorks pretending to be Vampires, definitely didn’t spot anyone who could be a killer there, at least I don’t think I did,” Scott said.

  “Fucking Vampires, what the hell have you been dragged into,” Hank said as he pulled into the house's driveway. Scott got out of the car with him, looking over, “There, two houses down, that’s where the party was,” Scott said, pointing out the last meeting place of the Depraved Covenant.

  Police tape was already up around the gate to the house, Kramer, once again, was standing outside smoking a cigarette as Hank and Scott came up to him.

  Hank took a deep breath, “I’m guessing I should just go ahead and have one right now? Got to get ready for the sick shit I’m probably going to see in there, am I right?”

  “You’re right?” Kramer said, holding his pack out for Hank to grab one.

  “One to ten, the first scene being a nine, what are we dealing with?” Hank said as he took a lighter from Kramer and lit up his camel.

  “Well considering if the first scene was a nine, if I do the math, cross divide, then I would have to say this one is fucked, can’t even think of a number you could use for it,” Kramer said.

  Hank turned to Scott, “Listen to me, you didn’t see the first scene, you might not be prepared for what you see, if it’s like the last scene it might unsettle you a bit, but remember you’re here to do a job, so nut up,” Hank said.

  “Do you have any idea the shit they showed me in training, they said they use the most gruesome stuff to scare off the weak stomachs, I can handle it, don’t you worry,” Scott said.

  Kramer tossed his butt, “This the new CSI guy?” he asked, “Your baby bro?”

  “We’re only two years apart,” Scott said, defending himself as Kramer gave him a once over while he pounded out another cigarette.

  “You’re a Tavares, yeah, I think he can handle it, same blood, and your blood is strong,” he said, giving Hank a nod of approval.

  “I heard about the last scene, even saw a few pics from it, I’m ready,” Scott said.

  Hank lifted the yellow take crisscrossed over the door and snaked under it, Scott followed holding his department issued digital camera.

  Just like the first scene, all the action was in the Foyer. A body, a woman’s, up against the wall. Her arms were extended out, with two steaks in mimicry of Christ nailing her wrists to the wall. Dried blood dripped down from her neck. Just like the first victim, female around age 24 to 28. What made this scene different was a bevy of eleven arrows embedded in her Black Sabbath T-Shirt.

  Arcing over the body was another message from the sick fucker that was doing this, a message scrawled in blood, “WE FEAR NOT THE HUNTERS,”

  Scott took a deep breath to collect himself. Seeing the brutality of that first scene in photographs was one thing, but being here, seeing it live, smelling the death in the air. He needed a second to gather himself and get ready to do his job. He got the body centered in frame and took the first photograph of his new career, then looked to Kramer.

  “I’m going to need one of those cigarettes,” he said as he moved around to capture the body at various angles that could be useful to have for the investigation.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Hank was putting his own eye to the body. Dried blood was cracking along her neckline, looking to be leaking from two small puncture wounds on the neck, “They find a license for this one?” Hank asked.

  “We’ve searched the place, no positive ID found, but we’re still looking,” Kramer said. “House is like the first one, it’s currently on the market, owners currently living in Florida, and I’d bet you it’s another one of those Air BnB deals. Guess they didn’t know that some killer is using the app to find places to stage his murders,” Kramer took a deep breath, “What the fuck have we found ourselves in T,” he said, hands on his hips, taking in the situation's humanity next to his partner.

  Scott was keeping his teeth gritted as he did his job. Capturing the blood-soaked body at every angle. As he zoomed in on the arrows, he felt a chill go down his spine, no it couldn’t be, he thought.

  “Hank, I got something that you might find pertinent,” he said, looking over the black and gold fringed feathers of the arrows stabbed into the victim.

  “What’s that?” Hank asked.

  “These arrows,” Scott said, pointing them out, “I’ve seen these before, they look custom made,” he turned to his brother, “We need to go have a smoke,” Scott said.

  “Agreed,” Hank said as he followed Scott and Kramer outside. Scott took the gift of a camel from Kramer.

  “Well, I know this is fucked,” Kramer said, “Hank, what’s your general opinion of the situation?” he asked.

  “My general opinion, it’s fucked,” Hank said as he took another camel and lit up, passing the lighter to Scott, “So you think you have something we can use?” he asked his brother.

  “The party I went too, just a few days ago, just a few doors from here. They had this archery game in the back, and the arrows they used at the game,” Scott pointed to the house, “Those are the same god damn arrows we saw in there,” Scott said.

  “Hold up,” Kramer said, “Vampire party? What the fuck is a Vampire party?” he said, not understanding what Scott was talking about.

  “I’ve been seeing this girl, really hot, but she’s a little weird,” Scott said.

  “Yeah, if she’s tied up into anything with a tangential relationship to shit like this, I would say calling her a little weird is an understatement,” Kramer said, turning to Hank, “What kind of bullshit is he involved in?” he asked.

  Hank shrugged, “Go on Scott, tell someone far less understanding than your brother about the bullshit you’re involved in,” he said.

  “This girl, Amelia, she took me to this party, some crazy club she’s in. They pretend their Vampires. It’s just a bunch of dorks playing pretend, it was actually kind of fun if a bit fucked up,” Scott said, “They drink wine and talk about how great it is being a Vampire, just a cocktail party with a dash of make believe,” Scott said. “The concerning part is those arrows in the corpse, I saw those same arrows at the party,”

  “What the hell kind of party has arrows, I mean, I’ve been to some wild parties, don’t get it wrong,” Kramer said, “But what the fuck kind of party has arrows?”

  “It was part of a game they were playing. It’s hard to explain, so they pretend to be Vampires, and there was this game everyone was playing shooting arrows at mannequins,” Scott said.

  “How do we know it’s not a coincidence, these could just be the same arrows available in any sporting goods store,” Hank said.

  “That’s what makes me suspicious. See the party, the Depraved Covenant they call themselves, they have money behind them. Allegedly a lot of money, their leader is some tech guy who sold an app for a couple million and he finances the parties, rents the houses. I took a few shots with the bows they had. I’m not the biggest sportsman but I know an expensive rig when I hold one, they wouldn’t shoot bows of that quality with dime-store arrows you pick up off the shelf,” Scott turned towards the door, “They’re custom made, I guarantee it, they have to be,” he said, “They said that it was training,” Scott took a deep breath, “To fight the Hunters,” he said.

  “Hunters? As in the dire warning of the people that this psycho doesn’t fear, those Hunters?” Hank said.

  Scott collapsed on the front porch. He took a long drag and a slow exhale, “I am so fucked,” he said, shaking his head.

  Hank took an equally long drag, one long enough to kill his smoke. He tossed the butt, “Did you ever get around to reading Gold Finger?” Hank asked Scott.

  “The James Bond novel you raved about, Bro, I couldn’t even finish Casino Royale, it was just an instruction manual about how I’m dressing wrong,” Scott said.

  “There are three steps,” Hank said, “Happenstance, we’re just down the street from the house this party was at,” Hank was pacing, deep in thought, rubbing his chin.

  “Yeah, three doors down,” Scott said, has the argument for a revelation built in him.

  “Then you have coincidence, the arrows if they are custom made, that’s a big coincidence,” Hank said, taking a deep breath.

  “I read that book, tell your baby bro what comes next,” Kramer said.

  “That bit about the Hunters, the Vampire party is apparently training to fight whoever the hell these Hunters are that they mentioned here, and mentioned there, that’s brings us to enemy action,” Hank said, “Three clues, that’s enough to make any detective worth his salt suspicious,” Hank said, “Happenstance, Coincidence, Enemy action,” Hank said, raising a finger for each good point he was making.

  “You can’t be serious. You think a bunch of dorks pretending to be Vampires is tied to, maybe, the most vicious serial killer in North Carolina history since the fucking Taco Bell Strangler?” Kramer finished his cigarette and threw his butt alongside Scott and Hanks.

  “I fucking hated that case study,” Hank said.

  “I don’t know if connected is the right word,” Scott said, “It can’t be all of them, this crowd of nerds, but the leader, the tech guy, he goes by Jacobin Hearsay, I saw him and he was a freak, not saying I think he’s capable of this, but if he was, I can’t say I would be that surprised,” Scott said.

  “Tell me more about this girl you’re seeing,” Hank said, “How deep is she with these so-called Vampires?”

  “No, she’s just a player, just having fun, she’s not like that. The party is an escape for her, just a game, it’s Jacobin we have to go after, I think I heard his real name once, Trevor Ellis. He’s a millionaire, millionaires are routinely involved in fucked up shit I think that’s who we have to look at,” Scott said.

  “Kid, don’t let your dick fucking blind you,” Kramer said, “Far as I’m concerned, with what I’ve heard, with Hank’s theorizing, everyone at that party is a suspect, even your lady,” he said.

  “The first crime scene, Jacobin was talking about it,” Scott said, “He took credit for it, said it was him that had a, as he called it, delicious feeding, he described it told about putting the body in its place, granted using only the information that was presented to the public,” Scott said, “Amelia said that more than a few of the Vampires were talking about it, the crime scene, different people taking credit for it, she said it was just a spot of grim fun. A bunch of pretend Vampires hear news of a Vampire like killing. They were bragging about it, saying they were the ones who did it. I didn’t think they could be serious,” Scott said.

  “You didn’t think they were serious?” Kramer asked, waiving his hand to the crime scene, “We’ll, the people doing this are pretty fucking serious.”

  “Here’s the plan,” Hank said, commanding both Scott and Kramer, “Scott, you need to go to another one of these parties, and maybe another one after that,” he said.

  “You can’t be serious, these freaks could be cold-blooded killers,” Kramer said.

  “No, he’s right,” Scott said, “I have an in to a suspect, I can get information,” he turned to Kramer, “I know I’m just a photo jockey right now, but I’m a goddamn reporter, I’ve been trained to follow leads just as much as you,” Scott said, “I’ll go in, go undercover, I’ll find the shit we need to find out, we work together on this and we can hopefully find something to take down Jacobin or whoever it is at these parties that’s doing this,” Scott said, “There’s a connection here, Hank’s right,” he said, “I’ll try to get us some evidence. If I can find out more playing the game, I can give it to you and that can help the investigation, we have a hot lead here, and you never let go of a hot lead,” Scott said, “Best-case scenario I can get Amelia out of this, mitigate any damage she might take if it turns out the local Vampire Larpers are part of a depraved murder ring,” he said.

  Hank turned to Scott, “You told me it was just supposed to be a bunch of dorks having a cocktail party and playing make-believe, there could be a connection to something dark here, you sure you’re ready to face that?” Hank asked.

  “Yeah, I’m ready, if it’s true I think I got a story I could sell to Vice,” Scott said, a reluctant smile coming across his face. “You’re right Hank, too many happenstances and coincidences to ignore, I have no idea what the gods of luck saw to put me in this situation, but I think I can help you guys take this fucker down, whoever he is,” Scott said.

  “I got a question,” Kramer said, “Who exactly are these Hunters they’re talking about, they got a union? They got a number we call when there’s something strange in the neighborhood?” Kramer asked.

  “I think it’s us,” Hank said, “The people who want to stop them, stop these vampiric fucks,” Hank wanted to ask for another cigarette but fought off the urge.

  “People who want to stop the Vampires lavish lifestyle, Amelia told me that the Vampires have been fighting and avoiding hunters for hundreds of years, thousands even, and since we’re going to take a Vampire down. I think that makes us the Hunters they claim they don’t fear,” Scott said.

  “We need you, Scott, you’re our man on the inside, you go to these parties, you find out what you can,” Hank said.

  Kramer laughed, “You can’t be serious, no way he should keep going, these guys might be psychos,” He said as he pulled out another cigarette. He was chain smoking at this point.

  “I’ll do it,” Scott said, “I’m a reporter, I got to follow the story, and there’s a big fucking story here,” he turned to Kramer, “Pass me one,” he said as Kramer gave him another camel, “So if I’m to understand, the Charlotte PD is asking me to do some undercover work?” Scott asked, a bit too excited at the idea of throwing himself into the maw of danger.

  “Fuck off,” Kramer said.

  “Agreed,” Hank nodded, “Charlotte PD isn’t asking you to do anything, I am, this is not on the books okay. You’re just going to see if there’s a reason for us to look into this, leave getting something that merits a warrant to us. Don’t be a hero. If these are the guys we have to take down, we take them down in the law's scope. I’m not risking my fucking badge on wild goose chase,” Hank said.

  “I got that reporter's instinct, Trevor Ellis, Jacobin Hearsay, that’s your man, I’d stake my reputation on it, just got to find something concrete enough to take him down,” Scott said.

  “If we go after him, it’s not your reputation, it’s mine,” Hank said.

  Kramer shook his head as he let out a billow of smoke, “You’re sure there’s some kind of connection, you really think there’s more about this case you can find out?”

  Hank stroked his chin, deep in an investigator’s thought, “If this Trevor, Jacobin, whatever the hell his name is, if this character is behind this, and we get something that can bring him in, we can get DNA, then Eleanor can run it against our records from the first crime scene. We take him in, if he’s the guy, we’ll have an airtight case, his fucking DNA on the victim herself, and who knows what else we’ll find when CSI looks over this shit show,” he said, dropping his last butt for the day and stomping it out. “This killer is telling a story, he wants to send us a message, I highly doubt he’s going to stop here. Another murder is coming. We need to find out whatever we can to make sure another one doesn’t happen. Do you know when the next Vampire party is?”

  “Amelia said they meet every two weeks, Fridays,” Scott said.

  “Two weeks, that’s how long ago the last murder was, if another killing happens after the next party, that’s another piece of conjecture that feeds into this story,” Hank said, he reached out and put an arm on Scott’s shoulder, “Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked, concerned for his younger brother.

  “I am, you know some of the more infamous moments of my career, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, if we can take down whoever’s doing this, I’m in,” Scott said, raising a hand for Hank to grab to cement their brotherly pact.

  The Detective, and the Reporter, both investigators in their own way. They knew that on this journey they would follow their father’s last words to them. Truth and strength. There was a killer to catch, and the Tavares brothers were silently making a solemn vow to catch them.