Solving the Vampire Murders

four

Torren sat down on the curb beside Zach. Grief had begun to weave their burgeoning friendship together, braiding sections of their lives with the shared experience of Davey's death. Torren wanted to comfort Zach, wanted to speak words that express sympathy.

It'll be fine. He's in a better place. Nothing can hurt him anymore.

They were cookie-cutter statements Torren had heard before. Hollow sentiments. Words spoken out of pity and discomfort. Davey's memory deserved better, but when Torren reached for the right thing to say he came up short. Instead, he asked the question perched on the tip of his tongue.

"What place did you tell Davey to stay away from?"

Zach swiped at fresh tears. "It's nothing."

"If you know something that could help the police solve Davey's murder, it's worth remembering. I know it must be hard to put your thoughts together right now."

Zach sat silent for a long time, save for the little hiccupping sobs that rattled his shoulders. Torren felt bad Davey was dead, felt bad for his parents and his friends. It was a terrible shock, but Torren couldn't bring himself to tears. The truth was he hadn't known Davey well.

The pain and sadness of his death brushed up against him like cold water lapping against a distant shore. It didn't pull him out to sea like an angry riptide the way Mr. Laytham's death had.

When Mark Laytham died, grief's chasm nearly swallowed him whole. The Laytham family was his family. Mandy's father had become--not his father--but something better. A mentor and friend. A shining example of what life was like if you had a good heart and tried your best. His absence in the world had hurt Torren in places he didn't know could hurt.

That still hurt.

With practice and time, he had filled the empty space Mr. Laytham left behind with purpose—a fiery passion for defending the voiceless. It's what drove him to study long into the night. Torren was going to get accepted into law school at Mark's alma mater, The University of Michigan, if it killed him.

He wasn't going to sit idly by in the courtroom beside Mandy and the other families. No. Torren was going to make sure the people who poisoned the Flint water supply paid and every last person responsible was brought to justice.

Torren fisted his hands until his knuckles whitened. Until his racing mind and his wounded heart collided.

Zach cleared his throat. "Davey liked to play pool. He was really freaking good. The best. But we knew the places he went to were shady."

"Did he put money on the games?" Torren asked.

"A little."

That sounded a lot like motive.

"Was he in deep? You know, did Davey owe money to the wrong person?"

Zach shook his head. One long finger trailing the blood smeared on his shorts. "Is there a right person to owe money to?"

Probably not.

The coppery scent of blood mixed with the acrid perfume of motor oil and street soot plastered to East Fairlane Road. The gritty taste filling his mouth. Now that Zach was talking, he decided to press his advantage. "What was the name of that place? The one you told Davey to stay away from?"

Another long silence punctuated the space between them. The only thing Torren heard was the syncopated beat of his heart and the strangeness in his chest--like a musician striking a pair of timpani drums. Panic tried to seize the moment for its own, but Torren batted it away. Determination and Zach's presence helped fend off panic's advances.