Once Bitten, No Longer Shy, Julie Steimle [i wanna iguana read aloud TXT] 📗

a waste of time. So he asked, “Did you stay here after that, or did you see where they left your body?”

“I followed them,” Brandon said. “They planned to frame Mr. Fantastic Phallus, but Connor forgot where he lived. But Frankenweiner never came by.”

“Stop calling him that,” JJ said, moaning. He also wondered how Connor had forgotten where the apartment was. His mind raked over the possibilities, quickly going to Silvia who was the wife of Troy’s best friend, and a witch. Could she have put some kind of spell on the apartment?

Ghost Brandon shrugged, not caring.

This information was what he needed though. JJ walked out through the establishment, and with permission of the owner, inspected the alley next after the bathroom. The owner watched, dumbstruck, as if he could almost hear Brandon. The alley was too dirty for any real blood samples, though the ghost did point out where he lay before the vampire and Connor had carried him away to dump his body. And there were blood stains. JJ took pictures and scraped up what he could.

“One last thing,” JJ said to the ghost who had followed him outside, a sign Brandon was changing attachments. “What did the vampire look like?”

Shrugging, Brandon said, getting closer, “Scrawny. Like Shaggy from Scooby Do. Not what I imagined a vampire to be like, that’s for certain. But he was like wiry with sinewy… you know the scrappy kind of guy who you don’t know would keep a shiv in his sock.”

JJ stared at him. He had never met such people, even as a cop. “You saw that in a film.”

“So what?” Brandon the ghost said, offended. Yet he looked around then hung closer to JJ.

With all he had, none of this was evidence. But at least he had a name. Yet he asked Brandon, “Would Connor kill Nicole?”

“After insulting his dick, yeah,” Brandon said. “He’d be too scared to take on Mr. Ruby Rod. That guy almost broke my arm at that party just for touching Nicole.”

JJ moaned at the names. He remembered the party, though. “Would Connor go after anyone else?”

“Of course,” Brandon moaned, sounding bored rather than dead. “I’m sure he’d love to get at Dalton for one upping him with Sue. But I think he’d go after Josh next. Josh isn’t stupid. He’ll figure it out and go to the cops soon.”

“Meaning me,” JJ murmured.  

“No.” Brandon shook his ghostly head. “Any other cop. He hates you guys because you stand by Mr. Thick—”

“Enough!” JJ grabbed the ghost, which shocked Brandon as no one else could affect him. It made the store owner yelp, as he finally could see Brandon. “Make another remark about Troy’s gonads, and I’ll find the nearest reaper to send you to the other side… where you know you will have to make an accounting for all the slimy things you’ve done in your life.”

Pulling back, Brandon seemed more translucent than before, as if he wet himself. That was a scared ghost.

Dangerous Investigation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

 

 

Brandon did not stay at the strip joint despite his initial fixation and his growing animosity for JJ whom he railed against as they got into the car and headed back to the precinct. He followed JJ like a fly over rotting fruit, not quite settling. JJ knew this would happen, of course. It was what some ghosts did when he visited them. He called it a fixation-switch exorcism. His family’s rare ability to naturally exorcise ghosts like this was one of his curses. JJ tended to have ghosts latch onto him frequently even without seeking them.

When he came back to the station where Nicole was interred, JJ asked to see her body.

“You need clearance from the judge,” one of the cops said, eying JJ cynically. “This isn’t your precinct.”

Brandon laughed at JJ but then stiffened when he understood the rest. “Nicole’s body? Nicole was killed?”

JJ shot him a dirty side look. But then he nodded to himself, saying to policeman on duty, “Fine. I’ll go see the judge.”

Yet he pulled up his cell phone and texted his cousin.

*Deidre, can you come to the police station to identify a body? I need you to pretend to be someone’s roommate.*

As he walked out, deciding what to say to the judge whom he knew well and was sure would give him any and all clearance as soon as he explained the circumstances because he had helped solve so many homicides in the city with his gift, Brandon the ghost snapped, “What do you mean Nicole is dead?”

JJ inwardly groaned. He didn’t like it when ghosts got agitated. Things got a lot colder and their fixations grew dangerous. He said, choosing his words carefully, “I think whoever killed you killed Nicole to get at Troy.”

“Killed Nicole?” Brandon moaned. “To get at the giant gigolo?”

 “The Order of Blood’s been after him for years,” JJ said, being careful not to trigger any reason for Brandon to disconnect his fixation on him and change it to his true target. Ghosts also did that, especially angry ghosts. Brandon just might go after Connor, and that—as much as it would be cathartic—would be unhelpful if they wanted it keep the guy from running or getting killed. They had to exonerate Troy.

“What is the Order of Blood?” Brandon seethed.

Admittedly, JJ was impressed that Brandon actually was angry for what happened to Nicole. The guy wasn’t a completely selfish jerk after all.

“Too many vampires for you to take on,” JJ said about the Order, feeling the coldness off Brandon as he said that.

Deidre texted back: *Which police station? And who should I pretend to be?*

Grinning, JJ returned a text with the address and a name. He then added: *If Matt is still at the precinct, have him take you.*

She quickly responded: *Ooh, you trust me with him?*

Laughing, JJ replied: *I trust you both. Matt is a great guy. You’ll never find a more upstanding man. I’m just paranoid. The Unseelie Court are after you both. And your guardian angel is in Africa.*

“Guardian Angel?” Brandon read the text over JJ’s shoulder. “Those are real?”

Rolling his eyes, JJ could not believe how nosy this one ghost was. “Yes. But apparently yours was taking a nap.”

Brandon kicked at him, making a face. His foot went through JJ’s shoulder, merely frosting it over for a second.

 

Unfortunately, Matthew was not at the precinct when Deidre looked for him. He had gone off to follow a lead so Deidre had to get a police escort to take her to the morgue where Nicole’s body had been interred. Luckily, her uncle, Officer Johnson, had made sure they would help her on call.

When she arrived at the other precinct, she had claimed to be the roommate JJ named for her—a Kimberly Dobson—saying she got the call and was asked to identify Nicole Collins’s body. She tried to act appropriately weepy. Deidre was pretty good at it, as she had dealt with ghosts for several years and sometimes a performance for them got the end result of their exorcism so they could pass on. In this case, she just needed to pass by the police.

They let her in after a brief moment, not even asking for ID, not suspecting she was JJ’s cousin. The policeman with her was enough, apparently.

Deidre felt the cold of the ghost immediately.

Nicole’s ghost floated in a high corner of the morgue just staring at the ceiling. She was mumbling to herself over and over again. “Troy, I’m sorry. Troy, I’m sorry. Troy, I’m sorry.”

The mortician drew out the drawer containing Nicole’s body upon request. Deidre shivered, watching Nicole’s ghost drift down toward her body, drawn toward it. Her body was ash white, her neck practically mauled. The blood must have come out in a gush. Deidre covered her mouth and turned away to keep from gagging.

“Is it her?” the policeman asked, knowing Deidre was really looking for a ghost but trying not to give that away.

Deidre nodded, choking out, “Yes.”

Nicole’s ghost drifted upward again. Before she could go, Deidre called up to her, “Who killed you?”

The mortician looked around. His eyes raked the rest of the room then the body itself which he was pushing back into the drawer. However, Nicole’s ghost looked down and stared at Deidre.

“You can see me,” Nicole said with a voice that sounded like it was coming from inside a seashell.

Deidre nodded, ignoring the mortician who was now staring at her as if she were nuts. The policeman with her quickly interfered quickly, talking to the man in a whisper, urging him to leave Deidre alone as she was in mourning. It was necessary for closure, he explained.

Nicole drifted down. She gazed at Deidre, circled her like a merry-go-round horse and said, “I know you. I saw you at the meeting. You’re the one who said you could see ghosts.”

Deidre nodded. “Yes. Who killed you?”

 The room grew colder as Nicole floated around her once more, inspecting Deidre as she would a competitor. “What are you doing here?”

“You are dead,” Deidre said, shaking her head. “Someone killed you and I need to know who.”

Nicole’s pale eyes examined her. She then looked away, uninterested, as if Deidre lacked something vital and she was no longer important. She drifted toward the ceiling again.

“Look, Troy Meecham is in trouble,” Deidre snapped. “The police think he killed you.”

Almost immediately, Nicole whipped down from her ascent. “What? No. He didn’t. He sent me home. Troy sent me home. He said we needed time apart because I lied to him. But I love him. I love him. I love him.”

“Who killed you?” Deidre asked again, desperate. “If we can’t prove Troy didn’t do it, they are going to pin your death on him.”

Nicole’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Deidre hated it when ghosts got like this. When they fixated, their thoughts went numb and stuck on a moment. Nicole was stuck on the moment when Troy had sent her home—not her death. She had clearly been too distraught do even realize that she had died.

“You were killed by some vampire,” Deidre said. “The police think Troy did it. I need you to tell me who killed you so we can get Troy out of jail.”

“It wasn’t a vampire,” Nicole said with a mocking snort, tossing her airy head. “It was that boy with the small willie.”

Deidre raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“Connor Davis, the kid with the little smokey who thinks he is a man—hardly worth the time I had with him.” Nicole floated smugly near her right side.

The mortician went pale, finally comprehending what was happening. He looked to Deidre’s police escort then rushed out of the room. Seeing him, Deidre said quickly, “But they said a vampire attacked you.”

Nicole huffed. “Vampire? He wishes.”

Moaning, Deidre rolled her eyes. “What do you mean, he wishes?”

The ghost laughed. “Connor wants to be Troy. He envies him.”

“Why?” Deidre could not imagine it. Troy hated being a vampire. It was obvious.

Laughing more, Nicole said, “Because, Troy has me.” Though she stared in the distance and said, “Or did. He’s angry that I lied to him. I didn’t mean to, but Marcus said if Troy found out about the pictures, about the sex I gave that man for money, he’d hate me. Troy is so innocent. He’s beautiful. I