Irregulars: Stories by Nicole Kimberling, Josh Lanyon, Ginn Hale and Astrid Amara by Josh Lanyon, Ginn Hale, Astrid Amara, Nicole Kimberling Page A

his mind anyway. In her mind too, at first. But after living among humans for so long, Janice had started to have her own ambitions. She had decided to write her own mystery novel. I thought she had tremendous potential. When we returned to our own world we were going to write together.”
    Keith was momentarily too stunned by the idea that the vampire realm had a publishing industry to think of a follow-up question. Gunther saved him.
    “Do you think we could read part of Janice’s novel?”
    DuPree shook his head. “She had only just started writing it. She’d written only short stories before—mostly about farm life and rearing goats. But those killings in Portland had given her inspiration. She was asking me a lot of questions about how the police investigate crimes. I didn’t know the answers, of course, because I write only romance. I believe in love, you know.”
    Keith exchanged a glance with Gunther.
    “Were you in love with Janice?” Gunther asked.
    “Yes, oh yes.” He broke off again, sobbing.
    “What do you think happened to her?” Keith asked.
    “I think that Sounder found out that she planned to leave and…” DuPree said, lifting his face from Gunther’s now-scarlet handkerchief, “and he burned her. That’s what happened to her, isn’t it? That’s how masters punish disloyal concubines. And it’s never investigated.”
    “We’re investigating it now,” Gunther said.
    “But you’ll never prove it,” DuPree said. “How could you? There won’t be any evidence. Like those poor girls who get drowned in Saudi Arabia or honor killings of rape victims in Pakistan. No one cares what happens to concubines. One less vampire—that’s all anyone ever thinks.”
    Gunther stood. “I assure you, Mr. DuPree, that we will see this investigation to its conclusion. In the meantime, I’m afraid we will need you to remain here in Idaho.”
    “Do you really think I am a suspect? I haven’t left this house in two decades.”
    “No,” Keith said quickly, causing DuPree to start. “But if Sounder is behind it, we will need your testimony.”
    “Please…I just want to leave this place. Meeting Janice, I finally had the courage to try and start again. Even if…” DuPree took a deep shuddering breath, but then recovered. “Even if Janice won’t be with me physically, she’ll be with me as the beautiful, shining spirit that she was.”
    Keith said, “We’ll be in touch.”
    Once back they were back en route to the airport, Keith said, “That was not what I expected to happen.”
    Gunther shrugged. “As it turns out, not everything is about food.”
    Pushing through a profound sense of déjà vu, Keith returned, “It is to me. Plainly, Janice’s interest in the Cannibal Killings could not have been coincidental. Coincidences don’t leave combusted vampires behind.”
    “Agreed. We need to pay Sounder another visit. Even if he’s not connected to the Cannibal Killings, he’s certainly the number one suspect in Janice’s death.”
    “Then we’re officially calling Janice’s death a murder?” Keith didn’t even know how to begin to file the paperwork on that one. Who would investigate? NIAD, he supposed.
    “Vampiric concubines are citizens like anyone else, right?” Gunther’s phone rang. He answered and after a perfunctory conversation turned to Keith and said, “They found bones from the club booker’s body. Same MO as before.”
    “And?” Even without the déjà vu Keith knew there had to be an and .
    “They found them in our friendly rocker kook Lancelot’s garbage. He’s being held at the NIAD detention center.”
     

Chapter Ten
    On the way to the NIAD detention center the next morning, Keith picked up a copy of the Willamette Weekly. He did this as a matter of reflex. Weekly papers often gave a better snapshot of the restaurant and bar scene in an area than anything else did. Not that he was sure this case even had to do with food anymore. Janice Sounder’s death, at