obsessed.
I headed for the bedroom. His double bed was unmade, but messier on one side, with an e-reader on the nightstand next to a glass of water. On the wall in front of the bed was a mural of a forest at night, black trees over a purple and blue sky, and a big, bright full moon in the corner. It was pretty, in a way, if you didn’t imagine mindless wolf people racing through the trees.
There were two empty glass terrariums on the dresser. I remembered Neha mentioning he’d had rats, but that was apparently a thing of the past.
I opened the nightstand. It was full of the detritus of emptied pockets: lighters, coins, receipts and business cards. His dresser was surprisingly well organized (socks on the top left, undies on the right). Same with his closet. I had only ever seen him in lab coats and t-shirts, but he’d owned his fair share of nice collared shirts and ties. There were no guns or suspicious secret boxes in the back of his closet. His bedroom was a standard bedroom with clothes and blankets.
“Guy’s a fan of monster movies, huh?” Aidan observed. He was standing in the open kitchen, looking at one of the B movie posters on the wall.
“Something like that,” I said. “See anything weird?”
Aidan shrugged. “I live with a vampire in an old factory. My baseline for weird is a little higher than usual.”
I laughed and then clamped my lips shut. I did not want to like the human pet. I did not want to enjoy his company. People like Aidan go one of two ways: dead or undead. And either way, we were never going to be friends.
“I will say it doesn’t look like a scientist’s place,” he said, leaning on the counter. “I mean, not the way I’d picture.”
Aidan was right. Ray’s apartment was all movie buff, zero pharmacological chemist. No microscopes or telescopes, no big science textbooks or petri dishes. Not even a copy of Cooking With Chemistry in his meager cookbook collection. If you had to guess Ray’s line of work from the things in his apartment, pharmaceutical scientist wouldn’t make the list.
I ran my fingers over the DVD cases on the shelf. Dozens of werewolf movies. On a whim, I opened a DVD case at random. Just a DVD. I put it back on the shelf.
I opened the drawers and cabinets in his kitchen but only found cookware and the usual junk drawer full of old mail, a lease, and various bottle caps. His fridge was better stocked than mine, full of steaks and veggies and some raw chicken. It was hard to picture Ray coming from his secret lab and cooking up a meal, but apparently he had done just that. There were dirty dishes in his sink and Tupperware leftovers to prove it.
The hall closet was home to a broom, mop, and vacuum cleaner. The pantry was full of food. The bathroom was a bathroom. His medicine cabinet held a toothbrush, mouthwash, and one bottle of ibuprofen. I checked the contents and it was the usual brown pills you’d expect to find. No prescriptions. No funny-colored pills.
He didn’t even seem to have a computer. There was an empty MacBook box in his closet, but I suspected that MacBook had been the one stolen at the lab.
There was nothing nefarious. No clue as to his experiments and no obvious reason anyone would want to kill him. Which left the most obvious reason of all: whatever the killer had taken from the mini-fridge at the lab.
“Any luck?” Aidan asked. He was standing in the kitchen, examining the bottles of whiskey in a cabinet. There were some seriously high-end whiskeys in the collection. Aidan had one bottle in his hand that I knew from my bartending days retailed for five grand a bottle.
“No. Ray was neat and organized, and left zero clues behind.” I sighed. Aidan was studying the bottle like it was a puzzle. “You can take that, if you want it. I doubt anyone will know it’s gone.”
“Nah. I don’t drink anymore.” Aidan put the bottle back and gave the cabinet one last lingering glance before he closed it.
“All right, well, I
I headed for the bedroom. His double bed was unmade, but messier on one side, with an e-reader on the nightstand next to a glass of water. On the wall in front of the bed was a mural of a forest at night, black trees over a purple and blue sky, and a big, bright full moon in the corner. It was pretty, in a way, if you didn’t imagine mindless wolf people racing through the trees.
There were two empty glass terrariums on the dresser. I remembered Neha mentioning he’d had rats, but that was apparently a thing of the past.
I opened the nightstand. It was full of the detritus of emptied pockets: lighters, coins, receipts and business cards. His dresser was surprisingly well organized (socks on the top left, undies on the right). Same with his closet. I had only ever seen him in lab coats and t-shirts, but he’d owned his fair share of nice collared shirts and ties. There were no guns or suspicious secret boxes in the back of his closet. His bedroom was a standard bedroom with clothes and blankets.
“Guy’s a fan of monster movies, huh?” Aidan observed. He was standing in the open kitchen, looking at one of the B movie posters on the wall.
“Something like that,” I said. “See anything weird?”
Aidan shrugged. “I live with a vampire in an old factory. My baseline for weird is a little higher than usual.”
I laughed and then clamped my lips shut. I did not want to like the human pet. I did not want to enjoy his company. People like Aidan go one of two ways: dead or undead. And either way, we were never going to be friends.
“I will say it doesn’t look like a scientist’s place,” he said, leaning on the counter. “I mean, not the way I’d picture.”
Aidan was right. Ray’s apartment was all movie buff, zero pharmacological chemist. No microscopes or telescopes, no big science textbooks or petri dishes. Not even a copy of Cooking With Chemistry in his meager cookbook collection. If you had to guess Ray’s line of work from the things in his apartment, pharmaceutical scientist wouldn’t make the list.
I ran my fingers over the DVD cases on the shelf. Dozens of werewolf movies. On a whim, I opened a DVD case at random. Just a DVD. I put it back on the shelf.
I opened the drawers and cabinets in his kitchen but only found cookware and the usual junk drawer full of old mail, a lease, and various bottle caps. His fridge was better stocked than mine, full of steaks and veggies and some raw chicken. It was hard to picture Ray coming from his secret lab and cooking up a meal, but apparently he had done just that. There were dirty dishes in his sink and Tupperware leftovers to prove it.
The hall closet was home to a broom, mop, and vacuum cleaner. The pantry was full of food. The bathroom was a bathroom. His medicine cabinet held a toothbrush, mouthwash, and one bottle of ibuprofen. I checked the contents and it was the usual brown pills you’d expect to find. No prescriptions. No funny-colored pills.
He didn’t even seem to have a computer. There was an empty MacBook box in his closet, but I suspected that MacBook had been the one stolen at the lab.
There was nothing nefarious. No clue as to his experiments and no obvious reason anyone would want to kill him. Which left the most obvious reason of all: whatever the killer had taken from the mini-fridge at the lab.
“Any luck?” Aidan asked. He was standing in the kitchen, examining the bottles of whiskey in a cabinet. There were some seriously high-end whiskeys in the collection. Aidan had one bottle in his hand that I knew from my bartending days retailed for five grand a bottle.
“No. Ray was neat and organized, and left zero clues behind.” I sighed. Aidan was studying the bottle like it was a puzzle. “You can take that, if you want it. I doubt anyone will know it’s gone.”
“Nah. I don’t drink anymore.” Aidan put the bottle back and gave the cabinet one last lingering glance before he closed it.
“All right, well, I
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