Tom laughed. "That was our thought, too."

Since I didn't trust Sean, I had no plans to hand this vial over to him. And if Sean was watching me, he was probably listening, too. I couldn't tell Tom anything over the phone. "Say, Tom. Can we meet in person?"

"Sure..." His voice shook a little when he made his response.

"I'm headed your way now. How about I take you out to a late lunch and we'll discuss it."

He groaned. "I can't leave for lunch. We're backed up today. But I can get a quick cup of coffee. The shop around the corner from my office."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Tom was already sitting at a table when I walked into the shop, his face red and his hands trembling as they gripped his cup. Another cup sat in front of him.

The first time I'd met Tom was at a party soon after I arrived in the city. I was going out with a cop at the time-a very brief fling-but I flirted with Tom enough to convince him to exchange professional information.

The second time was when I "accidently" ran into him at a bar. I bought him several drinks and convinced him to give me inside information on a case I was writing about. We'd worked out a deal. He gave me inside info on cases and I occasionally appeared as his date at social functions. But this was the first time I'd ever given him physical evidence.

"Sorry I couldn't meet you at my office," he apologized, looking embarra.s.sed. "Too much going on today."

He was lying, but that was okay. It was better that very few people knew about our working relations.h.i.+p. We weren't seen in public enough for me to casually drop by his office. In fact, I probably should have waited until tonight to contact him, but I was anxious for information.

I ordered a m.u.f.fin since I hadn't eaten yet and then sat myself in the chair in front of the waiting coffee cup. Tom looked down at his hands. "So what's this about?" Then he looked up at me with wide puppy-dog eyes that made me instantly feel like a b.i.t.c.h. I hated manipulating people, especially people I actually liked. Like Tom. And I knew that before this conversation was done I was going to get my way, one way or another.

"I have some information about the case."

He grimaced. "Like I told you, the Feds took it over."

"You might not still be working on it, but I am. And I think I found evidence they missed."

"What are you talking about?"

I told him what I'd found-the ash and the vial-and I mentioned seeing Sean on the scene the other night. But I kept everything else to myself.

"So you want me to do something with the vial?"

I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "Can you run the print? I have a feeling it was the murderer."

"Why would you think that?"

"Call it a hunch. Can you run the prints?"

"No." Then he grimaced. "But I have a friend who can."

I leaned forward, looking into his eyes. "So will you?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe you should just give it to your boyfriend." I wasn't surprised to hear a hint of jealousy.

"He's not my boyfriend. And there's no way in h.e.l.l I'm giving it to him." I tried to curb my frustration. "Tom, I'm on the cusp of breaking a huge government cover-up. I have a gut feeling this could be a huge break in the case." Then I added, "Please."

He didn't answer, which I took as a good sign.

"Look at it this way, this could be a big 'f.u.c.k you' to the Feds."

He laughed and then took a sip of his coffee. I used the opportunity to pinch a piece off my m.u.f.fin and stuff it into my mouth.

"So, is that a yes?"

"It won't be easy," he warned. "I can handle the print, but the pill..." He sighed. "I might know a guy in toxicology who will run it for me, but it'll cost."

I tried to hide my grimace. "How much?"

"Not money. He'll want an invite to my D&D tournament next weekend."

"And that's bad?"

He grinned and made a face. "He's annoying as h.e.l.l."

"So you want something from me?"

"How bad do you want it?"

How bad indeed. "What do you want?"

He blushed. "There's a work thing."

"You need a date." He'd never been nervous about asking before, so I had to wonder what was so heinous about this one. Not that it mattered. I'd agree. "Okay. Where and when?"

"Next Friday. One of my coworkers is getting married. We'll go to the wedding and the reception. Semi-formal."

Work? He'd always kept it to dinner and drinks with his friends and his fraternity brothers who came in from out of town. But he'd never crossed the work line. It was dangerous to start now. But who was I kidding? "Will we play it off as a first date or pretend to be an established couple?

"First date. Everyone I work with would know I couldn't keep it a secret."

"Okay. It's a deal."

"So let's see it."

I opened my bag and carefully pulled out the glove and set it on the table. "It's in here. I wrapped it in a tissue. I hope I didn't screw it up."

He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket as he stood. "I'll let you know what I find out."

I picked up my to-go cup and walked out with him. He stopped outside the door and turned to me, catching me off guard when he stooped to plant a kiss on my lips.

He grinned when he pulled back. "I figured we should make our date look legit." Then he walked away, whistling a happy tune.

At least somebody was happy.

It wasn't that I didn't like Tom. I just didn't like him like that. But leading him on made me feel like sc.u.m. Then again, after everything I'd done over the last seven years, maybe I was sc.u.m. But I had a feeling my last shred of humanity was about to be ripped away with this story.

Figuring it was still too early to check out the bar, I headed out to look at the alleys behind two of the other murders, but there was nothing. No gray figures on the pavement. It only corroborated what I had begun to suspect: The murderer was a vampire who had been interrupted during his last kill, and was murdered himself as he tried to get away.

It was five o'clock when I walked into the One Toed Monkey bar. There were a few patrons at tables and an old guy sitting at the counter. I picked a seat on the opposite end, relieved when I saw a guy working behind the counter. Chances were better that Brian was a guy's name, though you never know in Manhattan.

He walked over with a towel over his shoulder. No nametag, of course-it couldn't be that easy. I had to figure out how to play this.

"What can I get you?"

I sniffed and pretended like I was about to cry. "A gla.s.s of wine."

His expression softened. "What kind, honey?"

I waved my hand. "Oh, I don't know. Something white."

He pulled down a wine gla.s.s and began to pour. "Want to talk about it?"

I took a sip, then set the gla.s.s down and purposely toppled it over, making it look like an accident. "Oh," I whined. "He's right. I can't do anything right."

He yanked the towel off his shoulder and started to mop up the mess. "It's just a gla.s.s of wine. No harm done. I'll pour you another. On the house."

"Thank you," I said, grateful for the three seasons of summer theater I had done in college. "You're so nice... What's your name?"

"Brian."

Bingo. "Thank you for being so nice, Brian. I'm Larissa and I seem to have the c.r.a.ppiest taste in men. You've given me hope."

"I can't imagine a pretty girl like you having problem with men."

"You'd be surprised." I spent the next ten minutes making up a bulls.h.i.+t story, trying to figure out how to lead this fluff into the kind of questions Derrick wanted to ask this guy.

"And to make matters worse, my boyfriend is a conspiracy nut."

His smile froze. "What kind of conspiracy?"

I shrugged and picked up my gla.s.s. "Something about the government, but don't most conspiracy theories involve the government? It had some funny name that started with an A."

He stood upright. "You don't say?"

I was. .h.i.tting too many right b.u.t.tons. I needed to take the heat off him. I waved my hand. "He read all about it on some weird website."

He released a breath, then said again, "You don't say."

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I set it in my lap and peeked down at the screen, relieved to see it was a text from Tom.

No ID on the print, but I have some interesting results on the pill. Call me.

I gave Brian a pleading look. "Can you point me in the direction of the bathroom?"

"Yeah. It's down the hall."

As soon as I rounded the corner I called Tom's cell. "I got your text."

"I've got some results on that pill."

"Already? I thought it would take longer."

"The guy working on it was intrigued enough to keep going."

"And?"

"It's nothing they recognize, but from what they could tell, it looks like a suicide pill of some sort. Nothing could take this and survive."

Could the vampire have offed himself? Was it even possible? I needed to talk to Lea as soon as possible. I wasn't sure this could wait until our prearranged time.

"Where did this thing come from?"

"That's the question of the hour." I'd already told him about finding it under the Dumpster, but I was sure that wasn't what he meant.

"I'll let you know as soon as I hear something else."

"Thanks, Tom."

I hung up, figuring I should go home and hope that Lea showed up soon, but just as I headed back to the bar to pay Brian, the front door opened and a man walked in.

And d.a.m.ned if it wasn't the last person I wanted to see.

Sean.

CHAPTER 19.

LEA.

Victor held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you what I know." If he'd been any other person, I would have just bitten him and read through his memories. But that would be giving him exactly what he wanted. With the vampire blood he'd been drinking, if I drained him now he'd turn. The last thing I needed was Victor as a vampire.

I tightened my hold on him.

"You have exactly one minute to tell me what I want to know, and then I'm going to start removing body parts." I grinned. "Actually, please stay silent. It's been a long time since I've had a blood bath."

He paled and his mouth dropped open. "You wouldn't. I'm your patron. My father helped you for over fifty years!"

"You can be replaced, Victor. Forty-five seconds left."