Blood Mother. A Vampire Tale

Ch. 13: Hoyt

Hoyt went back to the office. He felt something pulling at the back of his brain and wanted less time at home thinking about screwing up with Tessa. He didn't regret keeping his cool with Luka. He knew the rules of the game and the last thing he needed were vamp enemies. What he did regret was his mouth. It always seemed to land him straight into a field of land mines.

He knew his "what happened to I can take care of myself" line had crossed the boundary  the moment it came out of his mouth. Tessa's face instantly went from anger to crumpled despair before slipping into that cold porcelain mask she frequently slipped on. But just those few seconds of pain were enough to give him ptsd. He didn't ever want to see it again. Her shivering in the car had been just as painful and he knew whatever Luka had on her whether past history or present threat, had shaken her core. He would wait until she approached him. As long as it she didn't take too long. He never claimed to be the patient type.

He cleared the conference room table of forgotten coffee cups and crumbs of food. He took out the five pathetically thin case files and stacked them next to his steaming cup of coffee. He opened the most recent. Charlie O'Dell.  Four years and eight months old.

Unremarkable history. No health, learning, or emotional concerns. Youngest of two boys of Lorilee and Paul O'Dell. Both born and raised in the state. Married eight years. Middle class family with stable income. Stay at home mother. No nannies or full time service help aside from a bi-weekly lawn service. Charlie was not yet in preschool and had spent the summer with his mother and siblings at home.

Hoyt saw no flags. Nothing resembling the other cases, no links via playgroups or teams. Not even a book club. They were the normal John Doe family. Whatever had targeted Charlie had seemingly done it as randomly as a chance encounter in a supermarket.

Hoyt wondered if vamps went to the supermarket. They certainly didn't need food, but surely they couldn't maintain a normal facade without having pantries of food could they?  He was used to the cave dwelling bottom feeder types. Very little experience with the upper class vamps. In their lifetimes, they had learned to stay clean and off radar and the VCU hardly ever got called in for the higher class. Hoyt had to give them credit. Living a life of eternity no matter how much wealth or experience would surely drive him insane. He had enough trouble with the 45 years he had lived already.

File on Cassidy Crawford. Nickname CeeCee, seven years two months. Only child of David and Lynn Crawford. Moved to the city six years ago with a job relocation of David's company. Newly upper class. Lynn Cassidy ran a local bakery. Upscale and pricey but not lacking orders or revenue. Cassidy attended Hoover Academy year long accelerated program. She was top of the class in testing and according to staff was 'a bright friendly girl who loved other children and excelled socially.' Hoyt wasn't aware people were tested on social aptitude and was thankful he wasn't an academy kid. He would have tested anti social without a doubt.

Cassidy had a birthmark below her left eye. Brown and 'shaped like a heart'.  He looked at the photo of the girl taken for school pictures. Long brown hair with green eyes and missing a front tooth. Her smile was large and unposed as if someone had been telling a joke before snapping the button. He compared it to the crime scene photo. Her stark white skin and dark blue lips almost gave the impression of being frozen. In this photo her hair and birthmark looked darker in contrast because of her pale skin. And her flat colorless eyes made the coffee in Hoyt's stomach turn.

He looked at the clock. 10:25pm. He would meet with the chief in less than 12 hours and didn't have a damn thing to report. Whatever the connection was, aside from nice children from families without shady pasts or financial troubles, he couldn't see it. No low income, no divorced parents, not even the God damn same pediatrician or grocery store.

He closed the files angrily and clenched his fists. He was not used to being in the dark. There was always a tie somewhere. He was supposed to be the master of pulling it from thin air. But the only link here was vamp. That is not something you could take to the chief. Might as well write boogeyman across the top and add his resignation letter below.

He pinned the nine photos on the board. There were five victims so far. One child, the fourth, had not been claimed yet. His crime scene photo would stand alone. It had been a week. What kind of parents didn't look for their child in a week?  Maybe they were unable to look.

Hoyt felt a jolt. Maybe the parents were dead. Killed when the taking went wrong. If this happened and he could find the identity of the parents things could swing his way. It wouldn't be difficult for a vamp to kill a few adults without much struggle, but there would be some, and some meant hope for evidence.

He left the pics up, and placed the folders in his desk drawer. It was late and he would be back in a few hours for another long day. He glanced toward the desk Tessa would be temporarily assigned to tomorrow. He could imagine her head looking down at her paperwork with the small loose curls working their way out of her pulled back hair.  Her slender fingers tucking them behind her ear again.

What the hell is wrong with me? He slammed the drawer and left the precinct towards home. He definitely needed sleep. And a cold shower. And maybe a kick in the ass. She was his partner. And almost ten years younger. And had a passion for tracking vamps. All those things made her a horrible idea for daydreaming about.

Good luck with that. He smirked at his ability to chastise his own thought process and stepped into his second cold shower of the day.

Up next - Calina