Free Vulgarian Vamp (A Wendy Darlin Comedy Mystery Book 5) by Barbara Silkstone

said Edward was a nymphomaniac? So he’s not an innocent?” I asked.
    “That depends on your interpretation of innocent . Edward came to the monastery to cleanse his desires. Accidents happen. A deviant may be dribbled by mistake.”
    “How do you know so much about the Lugosi Comet?”
    Renfield shook his head, reluctant to speak.
    Bram put his hand on the little man’s shoulder. “You must tell us.”
    “I am a life-long student and follower of Lee Christopher who first discovered the Lugosi Comet.”
    Bump! Bump! Who was playing that music? I looked around but saw no orchestra.
    Sitting in a puddle on the ground, Renfield gazed at the tombstones. “The spirals were useless. The poor brothers had no defense.”
    My right eyebrow shot up. “What do the spirals have to do with this carnage?”
    “The monks believed the spirals would repel the Comet.”
    Roger caught my super-superior-highly-raised-right-eyebrow. Flower holders indeed. I was right, sort of.
    “You keep saying we . Who are we ?”
    Renfield slammed his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean we.”
    Bram stood to his full priestly height and looked down at the caretaker. “You must tell us now. Who helped you stake the brothers? You could not have done this alone.”
    Renfield bowed his head. “Mina. The housekeeper.” He looked up; his eyes twin pools of panic. “Please don’t hurt her!”
    Roger helped Renfield to his feet. “Why would we hurt her?”
    “Mina because… well…”
    “Just the two of you did this?” I looked out over forty open graves some with stakes visible even at a distance.
    Roger leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Mina must be one powerful dame to have done this.”
    “No shit. I mean no poop.”
    Bram wore a drugged expression. Was he in a Transylvania trance? I couldn’t see any bites on his neck.
    “We must question this Mina. Where is she?” I asked.
    “I can question her,” Roger said.
    “I can do it better. I’m the gentle one.”
    Renfield looked like he was about to bolt.
    “Grab him!” I said to Kit and Roger.
    They lifted the caretaker off his feet just as he propelled into a roadrunner skit. His legs kept running even after the guys had him in midair.
    “Now where is this Mina?” I said trying to sound tougher than I felt.
    Renfield looked toward the monastery and then at Father Bram who seemed to be visiting la-la land. “She lives in the cellar under the sleeping rooms.”
    Cellar. Great. Rats and mold.
    “John and Paul, I’m deputizing you,” I said raising my spatula. “You’re the boss of them.” I pointed to the Louts who appeared to be in a grumbly mood.
    Kit lifted his hoe in support of my deputization, and dropped his end of Renfield. The little man dangled from Roger’s arm.
    Father Bram remained silent even as I commandeered his postulants.
    Our odd party of vampire hunters marched into the courtyard following the bowl-legged caretaker to the monks’ cells.
    “What’s in the cellar besides Mina?” I asked worried about getting my face wet with broken pipes or encountering holes in fabric.
    “It’s a wine cellar. At one time the monks made wine to support the abbey. This was a common practice with friars since medieval times. Sadly the vines died in the last passing of the Lugosi Comet,” Renfield said. “Wine hasn’t been made here for over thirty years.”
    Once again, we trod the uneven ground, the rotten leaves making for slippery footing. I held onto Roger and counted on Kit walking in back to catch me if I tumbled.
    The cellar door opened into a rustic alley between the graveyard and the monastery. Perfect for Boris Karloff exits.
    We picked our way down grit-slippery stone stairs. I followed Roger keeping my hands on his shoulders for balance. Kit stepped slowly behind me, the hoe in his left hand and his right at my side to catch me if I slipped.
    The cellar reminded me of the last scene in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. The room went on