Free Prague Murder by Amanda A. Allen Page A

that stupid job where he couldn’t text. She needed adorable texts from Dean, so she wouldn’t both hate Ingrid and want to vomit every time Emily was forced to steal Ingrid’s phone and catch up on the latest.
    “You should drink that and talk to me about being a vampire,” Carol said. “I think it’s only fair.”
    “Life isn’t fair,” Igor the Vampire said.
    “So true,” Emily added as she shoved the truth serum directly into his palm. They stared each other down, but he wasn’t scary.
    Vampire or not.
    And in the end, he downed the truth serum.
    Emily decided to wait extra long. She counted to ten which is way, way longer than it would have taken her to be well and truly confessional.
    “Tell me if you killed the Joe guy out there,” Emily said when she saw how Igor the Vampire relaxed into his stool.
    “No, I did not kill him or anyone else.” At Emily and Carol’s stare, he added clearly and precisely. “I have never killed anyone ever. Even as a vampire.”
    “Do you have a girlfriend,” Emily asked.
    Igor the Vampire stared and then gave her a suave grin, but when he answered it was a “Yes.”
    “Is it Meredith?” Emily and Carol asked in unison.
    Emily eyed the older woman and thought, I can’t be thinking the same thoughts as this chick. Ingrid needed to step in quickly. Otherwise, Emily might get infected and find herself giving up coffee and considering more than too many kids.
    “Perfect,” Carol replied and then demanded, “Tell me how to become a vampire!”
    Igor the Vampire opened his mouth and then closed it. Opened it and closed it again, and then shouted. “I won’t.”
    He ran into the hall where everyone else was just in time to see the ghost throw Ingrid across the room.
    “Oh man,” Emily said. “I’d totally punch that dead wench, but she doesn’t have a body.”
    She hurried over to Ingrid and Cathy with Carol close behind as the ghost tornadoed around the courtyard and and then dove, head first, into the body.
    “Ingrid, you hooker,” Emily said. “That is no way to get the ghost to confess to murdering that guy.”

Chapter 8
     
     
    Before Ingrid got tossed around like trash, Ingrid had pretty innocently desired to ask the ghost a few questions. Maybe see if poor dead Agnes knew anything that could help Ingrid get to her bed and some fruit dumplings.
    So Ingrid and looked over at Cathy and then shrugged before hooking her arm through the older woman’s to hunt up the ghost. The woman wasn’t Ingrid’s usual partner, but she didn’t see how they’d get the ghost to tell them anything when people were assuming the poor girl was guilty already.
    Had she just referred to the dead dove as a girl? She’d existed for centuries. Just because she was younger than Ingrid when she died did not make her a girl, and Ingrid needed to recognize that.
    “Where do you think you’re going?” The new Presidium guy asked as Ingrid wandered about, looking for a sign of the ghost.
    “The bathroom,” Cathy replied immediately. “But I’d like to speak to your bosses. How long do they intend to keep us here? This is getting ridiculous.”
    Everything in Cathy’s tone proclaimed her a mother who was about to give her kid a thorough smack down.
    The Presidium dove paused just as if he were that kid. He must know that Cathy wasn’t a magic user. As a normal, they really didn’t have any right to hold her, and there was no way that a non-magic user had committed the crime. Not with the way he’d fallen so fast and died so quickly. Ingrid had googled it, and you didn’t just die in a second from a stab wound.
    Apparently humans were tougher than that. She wasn’t sure she’d believe it considering the number of bodies that she’d tripped over lately.
    But the Presidium guy wasn’t tough because he stood there all gape-jawed struggling for an answer. It wasn’t like he could harass Cathy with the council for magic users that prevented terrible crimes with magic.