Chapter 15

  Much to what would have been to their mother’s chagrin, Hank and Scott had been smoking regularly as the investigation got more and more complicated. Scott was enjoying a camel in Hank’s passenger seat, waiting for his brother to pick up his own pack.

  Hank climbed in the car, tossed his pack on the dash, and took out his keys as Scott threw his butt out the window.

  “So, things are getting pretty hairy, you think there's any way I could get a gun?”

  “No, you can’t get a gun,” Hank said, pulling out of the gas station parking lot, “You’re CSI, not an officer, you’re not trained,” Hank said.

  “Not trained?” Scott laughed, “You know Dad took me to the range just as often as he took you, I remember a few times I out shot you, nine out of ten your clusters put mine to shame, but I’m not half bad myself if you remember,” Scott said.

  “Yeah, I remember,” Hank said as he got on the 485, “You’re a good shot, not as good as me, but if you ever come to the range with Kramer and me I think you could give us a run for our money,” Hank said.

  “What about a vest, can I get a vest? I mean, we’re fighting Vampires here, I need something,” Scott said.

  “We’re not fighting Vampires, we’re fighting something fucked up, but we’re not fighting Vampires, Vampires are not real,” Hank said.

  “Really, cause Jacobin most likely drank my blood, I don’t know if Sunlight or garlic could kill this guy, but in my definition of what a Vampire is, blood drinking is a one and done on that list,” Scott said, “Just got to get the evidence when I go to the party Friday,” he said.

  “Not evidence, it’s not something we can use, what you’re getting is merely proof. All you can do is circumstantially prove an assumption and then it’s going to be up to me and Kramer to find something we can bring him in for,” Hank said.

  Regina’s voice came over Hank’s radio as he cruised down the highway, “Dispatch, Tavares you there?” she asked.

  Hank took the mic, “Tavares,” he said.

  “We got a 187 at 616 Sycamore st, South Park, requesting investigating officer,” she said.

  “God damn it,” Hank said through gritted teeth.

  “187? That’s murder, isn’t it?” Scott said, shaking his head.

  Hank took a deep breath and responded, “Copy that dispatch, Officer Tavares en-route, Regina, can you tell me if it’s part of the case?”

  “Detective Kramer is on scene, requested you by name, said you’re going to need to see this, and he said he hopes you brought some cigarettes,”

  “Tell Kramer that’s a 10-4, I’m on my way,” he turned to Scott as he shifted gears, “Buckle up bro,” he said, slamming the CAR into GEAR and roaring down the highway as he hit his siren.

  “Hey, I told you I wanted to hit it, that would have been perfect,” Scott said.

  “Not now,” Hank said as he jumped off the highway on EXIT 59 towards the neighborhood.

  Scott surveyed the neighborhood as they made their way “Fuck is that the low riding bridge, fuck me,” Scott said.

  “Area looks familiar?” Hank asked.

  “Yeah, two streets over, that’s where the last party was, shit,” Scott gritted his teeth.

  Hank shifted his radio to channel thirteen, the private line he kept with Kramer. “Kramer, you there?”

  “I’m here T,” Kramer said, “Guessing you know what you’re about to walk into?” He asked.

  “Yeah, I got some idea, also assuming it’s probably going to be worse, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s right T, baby bro with you?” he asked.

  Scott grabbed the mic from Hank, “Yeah, I’m here asshole,” he said.

  Hank wrestled the mic from Scott, staring daggers at him as he turned off his siren and went though the neighborhood, “CSI is with me, he’s here to his job,” Hank said, “We’ll rendezvous at the scene,” Hank said.

  “I should really have a gun,” Scott said as Hank hung up the mic.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Hank said as he pulled next to Kramer’s car in the driveway of a house surrounded in that yellow tape Hank had been seeing far too much of lately.

  Kramer, just like at the first two scenes, was waiting outside finishing a cigarette.

  “Fucked?” Hank asked as he got out of his car, followed by Scott getting his CSI jacket on.

  “Fucked.” Kramer said.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Scott said, pulling out his department issued digital camera following Hank under the tape and into the front door to the rather nice house.

  “What the-”

  “Fuck!” Hank was cut off by Scott, who instantly recognized the scene.

  Sat in the house's living room, all furniture, couches, chairs, the television set, were all pushed to the wall to give the room an open feel. And in that open space were four wooden crosses spaced equally apart at the four corners of the room. From those wooden crosses hung four people, two men, two women, facing diagonally from each other. The women in lacy white dresses, the men in loose white robes. The white of their clothing all shared a stain of red blood on the upper left side courtesy of the puncture wounds they all shared in their jugulars. Their heads hung down, lifeless bodies tied to the crosses arms.

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  Hank turned to Scott, his brother looked white in the face, lifting his camera like more machine than man to get the photos the investigation would need, “Scott, talk to me, this look familiar?”

  Scott lowered his camera, “Yeah, yeah, the last party, they had shit laid out just like this,” Scott said as he adjusted his zoom, before looking back to Hank, “What was that bit about James Bond, Happenstance, and now we have Coincidence,” Scott, took a deep breath and got back to work, capturing his subjects at every angle Eleanor and the rest of the CSI team could need.

  “If what you’re saying is true, this is way more than a fucking coincidence,” Hank said.

  Kramer took a deep breath, and recoil at the scent of death in the air, “Same M.O. all four. Out of towner’s, some reject metal band T-shirts, crop tops, and low cut shorts in the bedroom, looks like they got changed willingly, no bruises on the bodies, no signs of a struggle,” Kramer said.

  “Where’s the message?” Scott asked, “Didn’t the last two have a message?” Scott said.

  Kramer sighed, “Gentlemen if you would, follow me to the kitchen,” he said, leading Hank and Scott away from the bodies.

  In the well made kitchen, on the marble flooring, stained in blood in giant letters, another sick message from the killer or killers.

  ‘IF YOU SEEK HIM, KNOW HE HAS COME’

  “Who the fuck is ‘HE’ supposed to be?” Kramer asked as Scott took a wide shot of the message.

  “The Dark One,” Scott said.

  “Dark One? This more of that nonsense form your little Vampire club?”

  “The Dark One, he has many names, and the Vampires are forbidden from saying them out loud, from what I’ve gathered the long and short of it is they’re talking about the Anti-Christ,” Scott said.

  “What happened at the last party, what did they do? They say anything to make you think they would strike again?” Hank asked.

  “It was a debate,” Scott said.

  “A debate? You said these things are just cocktail parties, what the hell kind of cocktail party has debating on the agenda, I mean I can see Pictionary or charades, Jesus Christ,” Kramer said.

  “They were debating, about how many humans they should feed on, and how many they should turn. They talked about building an army for the Dark One, saying he was coming soon, at least that’s what the Ancient Texts say,” Scott said, going back to the main living room to get more shots of the bodies.

  “Ancients texts? What the fuck are the Ancient Texts?” Kramer asked.

  “The rule book for the game they play, I’m still working my way through it, but there’s this through line that the Covenants, all the different clans all over the country, all over the world, everyone playing the game, that the Vampires are supposed to be preparing for the Dark One’s coming, and his war against humanity,” Scott said.

  “So, you’re telling me that this stupid game actually radicalized some people enough to go out and start killing people?” Kramer asked.

  Scott nodded, “I don’t know if it’s the game that pushed them to this, I’ve been to these parties. Most of the people there really are just some dorks who like to dress up like Highschool goth rejects and drink wine. That said, it probably didn’t help whatever sick mind has been doing this. Happenstance, Coincidence-”

  “Enemy action,” Hank said, finishing Scott’s thought, he turned to a Uni stationed outside a window, “Get the station on the line, tell them we need CSI here, I want Dr. Laterbauch, you ask for her by name, she needs to take point on this,” he said.

  “Yes sir,” the officer said, reaching for the radio on his belt.

  Hank made his way outside, followed by Scott and Kramer. He reached for his pocket and pulled out his pack, pounding out a camel and lighting it up.

  Kramer and Scott joined him, and the three shared a smoke outside after going under the yellow tape.

  Kramer looked over as Scott was fumbling, trying to get his lighter on. He reached out a friendly hand and lit Scott’s cigarette, “Not getting cold feet, are you? Rethinking your job choices?” he asked.

  Scott took a long drag, “Trust me, I’m just as motivated to catch this sicko as you,”

  “Sickos,” Hank said, “Remember, Eleanor said that there were two other blood types found at the first scene, there was the blood found on the victim’s body, and the blood that wrote the message,” Hank said.

  “Two suspects, how interesting,” A perky voice spoke up, approaching the house.

  Scott turned and when he saw her, his gut dropped, “This is a crime scene, Jennifer, no press,” he said.

  “First amendment, remember Scott? I can’t remember how many times you played that card to get past security. So, I see you’re working in public service now, how admirable of you,” She said with that fake bitch charm that got every door she needed open for her.

  “How’d you get here so fast, drop by the station to give someone a blow job for the info?” Scott said.

  “You know this woman?” Kramer said.

  “Unfortunately, I do, former colleague,” Scott said.

  “Well, that’s a bit mean,” Jennifer said, “We were also briefly lovers,” she smiled, taking out her notepad and pen, giving it a few clicks to warm up her writing hand. “So, Officer Tavares, this is the third incident of the Sacrilege Killer, or as you just said, Killers, what can you comment on, how is the police force fairing tracking down a suspect, or again as you say, suspects,” she asked, “Could you confirm that, does the depart suspect multiple offenders? Can I get a quote?”

  “Get the fuck out of here, Jennifer,” Scott said.

  “I’ll handle this, I can handle the media,” Hank said, “I can handle you, can’t I?” he smiled.

  “Now, Miss-”

  “Whitemore, Jennifer Whitemore Charlotte Beacon, I rarely work the crime beat these days, but if anyone’s going to get this story it’s going to be me, I demanded it for this investigation,” she said, Scott gritted his teeth, she always had to wear that damn cocky smile.

  She turned to Scott, “You’re the first newsman here and I’m still scooping you, pretty funny actually,” she said.

  “This isn’t some game, Jennifer, seven people are dead,” Scott said.

  “And even if I wasn’t here, they would still be dead. Someone has to report on it, people have a right to know,” she said.

  Hank stepped forward, “Ms. Whitemore, tell the Beacon that this is an ongoing investigation. Come to the station, we’ll have a statement prepared there. Until then, this is still an active crime scene open to department personnel only,” Hank said, stepping forward and holding his arm out, trying to give Jennifer the message she had no place here.

  “That means beat it, you can feed tomorrow with the rest of the jackals,” Kramer said, tossing his butt.

  “Fair enough,” Jennifer huffed, then turned to Scott, “It was good to see you again Tavares, I hope things get better in the job search,” she grinned, “I think I can write a good piece for this, that plus what I get when you give the statement, this will probably be my twelfth front-page story this year. Hey Scott, how many did you get at the Sentinel again? We’re you even printed? You were always so busy looking for some alleged corruption in the state capital. Making enemies in all the wrong places. It sounded like such a big story, I don’t why I can’t remember reading anything about it,” she said before turning, raising her hand to wave Scott off before he could counter her, “See you around Scotty,” she said, getting in her Lexus and pulling away.

  Hank and Kramer both turned to Scott. He just shook his head, “Look, it was college, okay?” he said, defending himself.

  Kramer laughed, “So you hit that? The shit must have been wild. Looks like an angry fuck if I’ve ever seen one,” Kramer said, “And I’ve seen my share,” he grinned.

  “She’s going to go wild with this,” Scott said, “We just got another problem to deal with, she embellishes, and whenever editorial gets on her, she bats her eyes and unbuttons her top button and promises to watch her step next time. She’s what we in our line of work call a headline whore, she sells papers so the higher ups could give a shit if she twists half her story out of bullshit. Just knowing that there are two killers is enough to give her something to ramble on with. I wouldn’t be surprised if she got four thousand words out of just that detail,” Scott said.

  “Come on, let’s get your pictures to the station,” Hank said, making his way back to his car as Kramer followed. “Eleanor will be here with her team soon, we need to give her room to do her work, I’ll leave some Unis to watch the place, make sure we can keep the media out until we can make a statement,”