CHAPTER 32
"Savannah and her dad? No way would they have hurt my dad, or helped anyone else to do it, either." I didn't know what had happened to Dad, but this much I knew for sure.
"All the same, I think I'd better pay them a visit, see where they were this evening," Officer Talbot muttered, his hand moving to rest on the butt of his gun at his waist.
"She had nothing to do with it," I growled. "She wasn't even here. Read my mind, see for yourself." I forced my mind to stay open to them so they could see the truth in my thoughts.
"How would you know if she was here?" Officer Talbot said.
"Because I would have sensed her," I snapped, completely out of patience now. If this prejudiced idiot couldn't get over his stupid hang-ups, he would miss following the real clues and the true killer would continue to get away with murder.
"How do you sense her?" Dr. Faulkner asked.
"It's like a punch to the chest or gut."
"Does this happen only when you see her?" Officer Talbot asked.
"No. She can be anywhere within a few hundred yards and I'll know it."
"Interesting," Dr. Faulkner murmured. "Could be a heightened survival mechanism of sorts."
"Or something else." Officer Talbot's mouth slowly stretched into a smirk.
"Hey, unlike some people, I'm not letting my emotions color the situation," I said. "Whether you like it or not, I've told you the truth. I would have known if Savannah was anywhere around here. And her dad would never go after mine, either. He's a former council member. He values the peace treaty too much to risk another war."
"He's still a vamp," Officer Talbot spat out. "Which means older vamps could order him to kill and he wouldn't be able to stop himself."
This was ridiculous. I grabbed the house phone off the kitchen wall and dialed Savannah's number from memory, hoping she hadn't changed it since our breakup.
She answered on the fourth ring with a hesitant "Hello?"
"Sav-" I started to say.
Officer Talbot grabbed the phone from me. "Where were you and your father tonight between 5:00 and 7:00 p.m.?"
"Who is this?" she asked, her tone firmer now.
"Just answer the question, please," Officer Talbot said.
"We were home. Why? Who is this?"
Officer Talbot ended the call. "I still think we should bring them in for questioning."
"Look, either you can waste time and explain yourselves to my mother tomorrow, or you can try to find whoever really did this. Now, the guy looked college-aged, so maybe you could start with the local colleges and seminary-"
"And tell them what, son?" Dr. Faulkner said. "We've got nothing to go on. No name, no vehicle description or license plate number. He could have been from anywhere. And bringing in a sketch artist would only open this can of worms up to the public and the national media. It'll be hard enough to keep it contained as it is, what with Sam's standing as a local figure and a nationally recognized businessman. Not to mention your parents' reputations among the charity crowds."
"But-"
"Why don't you walk with me a bit." Dr. Faulkner went out the front door. Following him through it felt weird to me because my family never used it. We always used the garage entrance in the kitchen.
Outside, he turned to face me. "I know you want to catch your father's killer. Believe me, we all do. And the Clann's going to be out for blood even more once they learn their leader's been murdered. But if the media gets wind that your father was murdered by someone even pretending to be a vampire, every descendant alive will go off looking for the nearest vamp to stake or set on fire. Your father was greatly loved, and he's going to be sorely missed. But you've got to let the Clann handle this discreetly or that peace treaty your grandpa and dad spent most of their lives working to bring about and maintain will be gone in an instant."
"So exactly what do you want me to do then?" Surely he didn't expect me to just sit around like a dumb little kid waiting for all the grown-ups to handle this.
"I'm saying let us figure this out as quietly as we can. We're going to catch the killer, have no doubt about that. We have to, or they'll never stop and none of us will ever be safe again. But let's keep the situation among our own kind and the vamps and keep the media and everyone else out of it."
"What about Savannah and her father? Talbot sounds like he wants to go interrogate them. You know the vamp council won't react well to that."
"Let me handle him. I'll get him sniffing down the right track in no time."
I sighed, feeling tired and suddenly way older than seventeen. "What do we do about Dad?" My voice grew hoarse at the end, and I had to clear my throat. "I don't think Mom can handle arranging another funeral so soon. And I've got no clue what he would have..." My tongue stumbled over the words, and I had to try again. "What he would have wanted."
Dr. Faulkner clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. The Clann will follow tradition and we'll get all the arrangements set up. We can hold the funeral this Saturday. And then we'll need to hold the elections that night while everyone's still in town-"
"Elections? For what?"
He blinked at me behind his glasses like a dazed owl caught in the spotlights that had just shown up at the front of my family's home. "For the new Clann leader, of course. With all the recent murders, the Clann can't afford to be leaderless for longer than a week at best. Wait any longer than that, and you'll have pure chaos on your hands."
This was one too many surprises to deal with in one night. "I never realized the leader was actually elected." Colemans had been leading the Clann for the past four generations. My dad had already been the leader before I was born, so I'd never seen a new leader take over.
"Usually it's just a formality because everyone expects the next generation of male Colemans to step into the role. But this time, things are quite different, what with the unexpected loss of your father, your being underage-"
"The leader has to be eighteen?"
"Yes, in order to officially lead."
"Is there an actual rule against females being the leader?" Emily was already old enough.
"No, not officially. But there's never been a female Clann leader in the Clann's history-"
"Why not?" Some kind of desperation was pushing the words out of my mouth as soon as I thought them. "Emily's old enough. And she's definitely got the skills to lead."
Dr. Faulkner hesitated, cleared his throat, hesitated again. "The Clann is founded on ancient traditions-"
"Which are obviously in need of an overhaul."
He stared at me for a long minute. "To be honest, son, your sister as Clann leader would be a tough sell even under the best of circumstances. But considering the situation as it is, with her loss of memory, her refusal to let others read her mind, and all the unanswered questions regarding her whereabouts at the time of your father's death, no one's going to vote for her. I'm sorry, but that's the sad truth of it."
"Because she could know something about Dad's death."
"Or worse."
I stared at him, my mind refusing to even go down that road. "She's my sister. She loved our father. She never would have-"
"I'm not saying she did. I've known that child since she was born. I'm her godfather, for heaven's sake. I know she had nothing to do with it. But not everyone knows her as well as we do, and you've got to consider how others might view it. The facts are that you saw her and a stranger with your father just before his death, and everyone can see your memories and verify this. But Emily claims to have no memory of it yet either she can't or won't let anyone read her mind to see if she's telling the truth."
"Can't? What do you mean?"
"Well, there have been cases where a descendant has practiced blocking their thoughts so much that they actually forget how to lower the barrier again."
That was possible. "I can't remember a time when she wasn't blocking her thoughts, even from me," I admitted.
"Okay, then let's assume she is telling the truth and doesn't remember. Then we've got a situation where something's going on with her mind to make it unstable. And no one's going to want someone like that for their leader."
I sighed. "She could get her memory back."
"Sure she could. But until then, Emily is not a viable candidate as Clann leader. Which brings us back to you. Now ordinarily the Clann would overlook the next few months until you come of age, allowing your mother to serve as temporary leader until your eighteenth birthday, at which time she could step down from the role. But this time, there is the added issue of an actual contender for the vote-Jim Williams."
Dylan's father. Of course.
If Dylan's father took over the Clann, not only would we be at war with the vamps in no time, but Mr. Williams wouldn't rest until every single vampire was staked or burned out of existence.
"Dad always acted like it was a done deal that I would be the next leader," I murmured. Now that the shock and anger were wearing off, I was starting to have a tough time staying upright and on my feet. I didn't want to deal with all this political crap right now. I just wanted to fall into bed.
"If he'd lived even one more year, it probably would have been."
But he hadn't. And now everything Grandpa and Dad had believed in and worked so hard for was about to fall apart.
"Do you really think a vampire killed my dad?"
Dr. Faulkner paused, considering. "Well, it's certainly possible to fake a vampire bite with prosthetic fangs or even those plastic fangs you see everywhere at Halloween time. And he could have been drained elsewhere then brought back to the clearing. I'd have to do some tests to be sure, though, like checking the wound for saliva and running a pretty covert DNA test on whatever I find. I couldn't go through the normal channels, of course, so it would take longer to get the results."
"I'd appreciate it if you would." Maybe a DNA test would prove it wasn't a vamp bite at all. Or at least it could help match Dad's killer with whoever had killed my aunt and uncle and cousins.
"Do you think the vamp council keeps DNA records on all the known vamps?" I asked.
"I highly doubt it. The security risk in maintaining such a database would be astronomical. But it couldn't hurt to ask them. You know, your dad wasn't lying to everyone when he said he was working with the vamp council to investigate the descendant murders. Now that he's gone, and especially with the Clann reaction that's sure to come, maintaining contact with the council is going to become more crucial than ever. If you were to reach out to the council personally, that could help preserve the peace treaty a little longer until we can catch the killer. Not to mention adding some important credibility to your bid for Clann leadership."
I opened my mouth to tell him the truth, that I'd never really wanted to be Clann leader. That it was my parents' dream, a dream that wasn't ever going to take place because my dad was going to live forever. And that I would probably fail miserably at trying to lead a bunch of people spread out all over the world, most of whom I didn't even know.
But then I thought about what would happen if I didn't step into Dad's shoes... How disappointed Dad and Grandpa would have been, not to mention Mom... What the Clann could turn into with vampire haters like the Williams family running things.
And what that would mean for Savannah.
I took a deep breath. "You're right. I'll see what I can do to make contact with the council. Savannah's father is a former council member. I'll talk to him and see if he can set up a line of communication for us."
Dr. Faulkner stared at me, a strange look on his face. After a long moment, he said, "Your dad would be incredibly proud of you tonight."
My chest tightened to the point where it was almost a struggle to breathe. "Thanks."
"Get some rest if you can. Tomorrow we rally the allies and start pushing for the vote. The sooner we can get everyone thinking of you as the natural and best choice for leader, the harder it'll be for Williams to gain support."
I saw his point. It also made me think of something I'd heard in world history class, how when a king died people would cry, "The king is dead. Long live the king!" I'd never understood what they meant before. Now I was starting to get it.
It didn't make it seem any more right, though. Politics just plain turned my stomach. It didn't take into account stuff like pain or loss or needing time to grieve, or shock or fears and doubts.
Would I even make a decent leader? I'd assumed I would have decades to learn from Dad. Had he had enough time to teach me what I needed to know to carry on his dream?
I said goodbye to Dr. Faulkner then trudged back inside the house. Officer Talbot was gone, Emily already in her room, Mom moaning in her sleep.
I locked the front door, reset the alarm system, went upstairs to my room and toed off my shoes. Across the hall, Emily's sobs were muffled by her closed door.
Part of me wanted to knock on her door, offer her a hug, pull together like we always had in times of trouble. No matter how different our opinions had been on any one subject, we'd always stuck together. I'd always been able to count on Emily to figure out a game plan if I didn't already have one.
But after watching her either lie or at least hide something about Dad's death, the greater part of me held back from reaching out to her. There were too many unanswered questions, too many secrets she was keeping. Even a tiny clue might lead us to the murderer. Until she opened up and told me what she knew, I just couldn't trust her like I used to.
So I shut my bedroom door and lay down on my bed in the dark. And tried to forget the image of Dad's unseeing eyes staring blankly up at me, until exhaustion pulled me under.