7.30 Friday, 13thSeptember
Venue: The Den
RSVP
Emmaline Shaw
Director
Humans4Monsters Recruitment
Her senses pricked. The event was a month ago. Three weeks before Natalie disappeared.
Had Natalie bought the black dress to attend that event?
She glanced at Oliver, still charming the landlady with his easy laugh and his velvet tone, effortlessly getting tidbits of information out of her.
But notthistidbit.
Swiftly, she slid the card into her purse. She’d raise it with him later. After they’d visited Vlad about the dress.
Maybe then there would be some sense to be made of it. Right now, with the landlady spouting on about moral values in young people, she decided to keep quiet. She didn’t want salacious rumors to spread about her old friend.
Oliver came back. “Have you found anything else of note?”
Something made her say “Nope.” And she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was to claw back some power in the situation. She resented that he seemed so casually indifferent to her, while she was struggling to stay even remotely sane and rational in his presence.
“Bring the dress.”
She unhooked the dress from its hanger.
“Grab the stilettos, too. Could be useful to check the dust on her shoes.”
Once they were out in the street she said, “So are we going to see Vlad now?”
“I am. You’re not.”
“W—what?” She stared at him, brows furrowed.
“I’m dropping you back at the station. You need to set up times to interview the families.”
“But you told me to stop.”
“And now I want you to start again.”
She almost whined like a petulant child that he was being grossly unfair. Instead, she adjusted her vocal cords and said in a gruff voice, “My preference would be to stay and investigate what’s happening here, sir.”
“This is not about your personal preferences,” he snapped. “You are the only human working on the case. If we have any chance of the families talking, it will be to a human. You need to go to Tween and interview them.”
“And you? What will you be doing in the meantime?”
“I will investigate leads in Motham. This dress, for a start. Here.” He took the garment and shoes from her.
He must have sensed she was fuming, because he raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing. Sir,” she muttered as he placed the shoes and dress in the boot.
He gave a huff of a sigh as he returned and looked at her across the top of the vehicle. “It has to be you who interviews them, Clare. High Tween humans would not take kindly to a vampire knocking on their door. My presence in Tween would spell the death knell for our investigations.”
