Free Dead Spots by Melissa F. Olson Page B

had even given Jesse a set of old fangs to keep. He still had them somewhere. After that, young Jesse’s fears about vampires had dissolved, but he still remembered that feeling of wonder and terror, knowing there was something out in the night that wanted to get you. And now...He kept waiting for the makeup person to come out and show him the fake fangs, but it hadn’t happened yet.
And there was something sort of...exciting about that
, he thought. The world had gotten a lot scarier, but it had gotten a lot more interesting, too.
    Jesse’s parents’ home in Los Feliz was big and sprawling. His mom and dad had taken a basic ranch house and built on to it every ten years or so until it reminded Jesse of a hospital—new additions and corridors that made it hard to find anything. The house was hardly sterile, though—his mother had overdecorated it to the point of suffocation, which Jesse, his father, and his older brother tended to smile about.
    When he pulled into the driveway, Carmen Cruz was outside the house watering the mums and dahlias that crowded the porch. Max, his parents’ pit bull mix, was prancing—there was no other word for it—in circles around her, trying to catch the falling water in his mouth. As Jesse pulled up, Max went on high alert, immediately charging the newcomer with affection that bordered on assault.
    “Hey, buddy,” Jesse said happily, crouching down to let Max lick his face. “Long time no see.”
    “
Hijo
, you were here last weekend,” Carmen said, coming up for a kiss. She was short and stocky, with good looks that hadn’t faded with age. Last year, she’d finally cut off all her long hair, and Jesse still missed seeing it when he looked at her.
    “True, but in dog time, that’s like years and years.” He kissed her cheek.
    “Ah, I see. Am I to assume that this unannounced visit will involve me cooking you breakfast?”
    “Only if you want to. I can always hit the McDonald’s drive-through,” he said mischievously, happy to be in the familiar rhythm of teasing her. It was about as far as he could get from werewolves and dead bodies in the dark.
    “God forbid! All right, follow me. Max, come.” She slapped her leg at Max, who was eyeing the flowers as though he might lick the moisture right off them. “There’s water in the house, silly dog.”
    In the kitchen, his mother stirred up some
híjoles caramba
, Mexican omelet, while Jesse sat at the counter and drank coffee. He hated the taste of all coffee, but he’d been pretending to enjoy his mother’s for years and had no good reason to give up the charade.
    For a moment, he wanted to blurt out the story of the last few days—the werewolves, the girl, the whole thing—but he swallowed it. It was exciting to know that vampires were out there, but he still didn’t want to piss them off or involve his mother. Instead, he asked, “Is Dad working this morning?” trying not to wince at each sip of his coffee. While her back was turned, he dumped in a few more spoonfuls of sugar.
    “Yes, he had an early meeting, but my call time isn’t until ten-thirty today, which is why I am here puttering around,” Carmen replied, “accidentally” dropping a piece of sausage in front of Max.
    “
Mamá
, you know if you feed him like that, he’s going to expect to get scraps all the time.”
    “That’s why I make it look like an accident,” she said, as though Jesse might be a little dim-witted. He smiled. Her face became very serious. “I saw on the news about the murders in La Brea Park. That is in your district, yes?”
    “Yes. I’m assigned to the case. Just a grunt, though.”
    Carmen made her guilt-inducing clucking sound. “Oh,
hijo
, why you must do this work I will never understand. Your brother said the television show he is working on is looking for a new police consultant. Maybe—”
    “Mom,” Jesse cut in, “I don’t want to have this discussion again. I’m a cop. It’s what I do.” She sighed