"Thank you for your time." Scott stopped at the front door. Madeleine stood on the steps waiting for him. "Mr. Smith, I don't believe you're a vampire, but I'm not altogether sure you didn't have something to do with Danielle's death. Don't leave town."
"I hadn't planned on it, Detective." Stephen followed them to the door. Resting against the door frame, he watched them walk away. The streetlights barely illuminated the darkened sky. I'll see you later, Maddie, he whispered.
She paused as the quiet voice reached her ears. Scott didn't stop. As if he hadn't heard it. She looked over her shoulder. Stephen still watched them--a dreadful light flickering in his eyes.
Madeleine hurried after Scott as he stalked toward the car, his shoulders taut with anger. Without speaking, he savagely cranked the key in the ignition and pulled onto the street. Madeleine buckled her seat belt and waited.
"Why didn't you tell me about being hurt?" he snapped moments later.
"It didn't seem relevant."
"Didn't seem relevant?" Scott alternated between watching the road and glaring at Madeleine. "You were mugged and hit on the head. Then you come to me with a crazy story about vampires, and you didn't think it was relevant?"
"I wasn't hallucinating," Madeleine bit out. "And I don't think I was mugged. I think he was waiting for me." She didn't remember it all. A voice--talking to her, calling her by name?
"A comic book artist," Scott continued as if Madeleine hadn't spoken. "His roommate draws comics for a living. How am I going to explain this to my lieutenant when he asks what we found? 'Well, sir, we found a couple of boxes. They looked like coffins, but you know, it's okay. In the end it was nothing. Call off the National Guard. Just some gardening tools.' And the rest of the search crew. They all thought we'd found a coven of vampires..."
"I don't think vampires form in covens," Madeleine said with a shake of her head. "I think they move in packs, like wolves."
"Whatever!" Scott shouted. He stared straight down the road. "I'll just have to tell them it isn't a true gaggle or pack or whatever it is of vampires. Just an eccentric comic book artist and his friend who hopefully won't decide to sue us."
"Stephen's lying," Madeleine protested. "He wasn't talking about a comic book. I heard him."
"When, Madeleine? When did you hear him? What were you doing?"
"I told you. I was in the living room, and they were in the kitchen."
"Was this just after you were unconscious?" Scott sighed. "There is no connection whatsoever between Stephen Smith and your cousin, except that his roommate used to date her."
Madeleine sat up straight in her seat. "What about Bob? He told me he saw Stephen pick Danielle up at our building a few nights before she disappeared."
"No, he didn't. I talked with Bob today, and he said he'd never seen Stephen Smith until you brought him home."
Madeleine felt her jaw fall open.
"He's lying. He told me..."
"What, Madeleine, is everyone lying? Bob's lying, Stephen's lying. Everyone is lying except you. You know all the answers."
Madeleine watched Scott's profile as his agitation grew. She wasn't going to change his mind. Stephen had already done that.
"I wasn't hallucinating." Her voice was calm, quiet. She had no energy left to fight. "And I know Stephen knew Danielle. I'd bet on it."
"Well, it looks like I already did. I'll have to find a way to explain this to my lieutenant."
Anger filled the car. Madeleine concentrated on keeping her breathing steady. She had to get home. She had to be alone. Someplace where she could scream.
Scott's car pulled up in front of her building. He stopped at the curb and waited for Madeleine to climb out.
Stephen walked to me to my door, Madeleine thought, holding back a hysterical giggle.
"Good night, Madeleine," Scott said in a neutral voice.
"Good night, Scotty." Madeleine got out of the car and watched Scott's taillights disappear into the dark. She might have ruined a friendship over this.
The need to be inside, under bright lights and behind the safety of her locks, hurried her into her building. She took the elevator up, something she rarely did. Stepping into the hall, she clutched her keys in her fist and walked slowly toward her door. She was alone, but another presence hovered about her. She shook her head to clear it. She was going to end up as crazy as Stephen if she wasn't careful.
Sounds of imagined footsteps followed her down the hall. Her hands shook slightly as she inserted the key in the lock. Panic welled up in her throat. She looked left, then right. She was alone. She jiggled the key, willing the door to open.
Finally, the lock gave. With a sob, Madeleine slipped inside.
She slammed the door behind her, leaned against it and stared into the dark apartment. Each labored breath calmed her pounding heart. The realization that she was home safe settled into her body and her mind, allowing her muscles to relax. She shook her head and smiled at her vivid imagination. Pushing away from the door, she stepped toward the kitchen.
Something stopped her. Like a wall of black air, surrounding her.
She couldn't see it, but she could feel it. She stepped back. It was behind her. Around her. Frozen, unable to move, barely able to breathe, she opened her mouth.
A hand reached out from the dark and grabbed her throat, cutting off her scream.
"Maddie, you've been telling secrets."
)
