Vampire P.I.

Chapter 3: Nathaniel Ballard

*Claire*

I approach the edge of the police tape line toward the approaching figure I saw emerging from the shadows. This guy is giving me weird vibes, and I did not want him contaminating the crime scene.

“Excuse me, sir," I say as I step up to the tape which is still bouncing in the evening breeze. “This area is off-limits. We are currently managing the situation, but I have to ask you to stay behind the line."

“It's alright," he responds, his voice cool and even while rumbling deep in his chest. There is a gruffness to his voice that gives him a mysterious air. So, this is how he wants to play. He approaches the line closer to the point where his hand is reaching out to grab the tape to cross over.

“Sir," I say more firmly this time. “You can't cross the line. We are currently handling a situation. If you have any inquiries, I can put you in contact with the right people if you provide your name and a point of contact."

“I am familiar with the proper procedure; however, I believe you will find my credentials sufficient for entering the scene," he replies as he lifts the police tape over his head. Who does this guy think he is?

I forcefully step in front of him to the point I almost body check him and bump him back beyond the line with my frame. I notice he stands about half a head taller than me, but I'm not going to let that stop me.

“Sir, please step behind the line. You can provide your credentials to me and wait here, but you cannot come onto this site unless you want to be charged with criminal trespassing and contaminating a crime scene," I say, feeling my hazel eyes burning into him. I knew it was a reckless move, but the scene needs to be protected and I'm the only one on this side.

It is at this point the man stops and looks at me – really looks at me. I see his coal black eyes absorbing the light from the police cruisers as well as every detail of my face. His brow furrows curiously as he lowers the tape and places his hands in his pockets instead. That uneasy and suspicious part of me instinctually reaches for the place on my belt where my taser sits.

“Apologies," he says softly as he steps backwards. “I do not believe you and I are acquainted."

“Officer Knight? Everything good over here?" I hear my partner, Wates, call.

“All good. Why don't you come over so I can introduce you to my new friend," I call back, my heart pounding as I continuously tried to get a read off this strange guy. I hold a silent hope that my new partner picks up on my cue to get over to me as soon as possible.

Thankfully, he does. Out of my peripheral vision, I see Wates walk around the car toward where we are both standing. Good.

The confidence in my heart immediately sinks as I see the stranger and Wates look at each other and smile.

“Nathaniel!" says Wates as he comes over and offers a hand to this newly named Nathaniel character. “Boy, am I glad to see you. I'll radio the Chief in a minute."

“No worries. I was just acquainting myself with my new, how do you say, friend," says Nathaniel as his eyes flick over to me. I feel like grinding my teeth as I try to get a read off of the two guys. What was going on?

“Wates, you know this guy?" I ask, still feeling myself bristling by being in Nathaniel's proximity.

“Oh, right. Nathaniel, this is our newest officer on the force, and my new partner, Claire Knight," introduces Wates as he gestures to me. Whoever this Nathaniel guy is, he definitely seemed to have some pull. Regrettably, I need to play nice. I pull a smile onto my face, not showing my teeth, as I maintain my presence.

“Nice to meet you," I say. “And you are?"

“Nathaniel Ballard, P.I. Pleasure to make your acquaintance," says Nathaniel as he holds his hand out to me like a know it all. There is a hint of genuineness in his smile, but also a gleam in his eyes that mocks me. I clench my teeth and pry the glove off my hand before taking his hand to shake it. I take note of his firm grip and his deep inhale at my own grip.

“P.I.? Private investigator?" I ask as I retract my hand and look to my partner.

“Um… yeah. We have an understanding. Nathaniel comes in from time to time and helps out with some of our more specialty cases; with the correct clearance, of course," explains Wates.

What? Did they bring in a private investigator for cases? And what did that mean? An understanding?

“You're not on the force?" I ask, eyes flicking back and forth between Wates and Nathaniel.

“Afraid not," replies Nathaniel. “I'm afraid I would fail the physical portion of the police academy. Add that to the fact that I'm more of a people person and can get more information from having the conversations the police can't have without a warrant and so forth makes me an asset as an independent contractor."

“And you're not with the media?" I press.

“Heavens, no," chuckles Nathaniel, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth. “I prefer knowing the facts, not making them up as I go along hoping that I'm right."

I had to give him credit for that one. No doubt, some reporter was already furiously typing away at the article about the crime we were standing by. However, just because he made a good jab did not mean I like him in the slightest. I would tolerate his presence for now; not that I had a choice.

Before I could say anything else about the matter, I watch as Wates raises the police tape for Nathaniel.

“Now, if we could get to the facts," says Nathaniel. “Tell me about the victims. Anything known? Any identification?"

I stalk behind the two of them and listen as Wates basically debriefs Nathaniel on all of the information I read about in the car. The brisk pace of Nathaniel felt like him strutting, showing off as if he owns the scene.

I'm going to have a hard time getting along with this guy. Rather than focus on the guy I can do nothing about, I let myself wonder instead on how many cases this guy has actually been on.

I instinctually fold my arms against my chest and watch as Nathaniel pulls on a pair of gloves and lifts the sheet covering the first of the two victims. I can see his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight before him. I see his eyes lock onto the face, then the neck, then the wrists.

“You know I won't ask for anything you're not willing to provide," says Nathaniel to Wates. “But, if you can, forward the report to me. I have some ideas."

Forward the autopsy? Excuse me? I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise in a full body bristle. This is sensitive and privileged information. How much is this guy involved in the cases?

“Officer Knight, do you have any conclusions you wish to share with me?" asks Nathaniel as he stands and proceeds to the next victim.

“Not at the moment," I reply while forcing my arms down to my sides. I didn't want to appear too defensive with my arms folded across my chest and the undoubtedly suspicious look on my face. “I need to see the autopsies of the other victims. I would not want to make up the facts and hope that I'm right."

This earns me a chuckle from both Wates and Nathaniel.

“She has spirit," says Nathaniel. “Undoubtedly, she will be a good partner."

“I'm getting that feeling," replies Wates, flashing me a quick grin. I feel like rolling my eyes but keep them instead on Nathaniel as he reaches out and tenderly prods the wound on the neck.

“Just another minute or so and I will be on my way," says Nathaniel as he pulls a camera out of his pocket.

It is an old one. Is it a film camera? An actual film camera? Nathaniel holds the camera up to his eye, adjusts the settings, and snaps a few shots. The blinding flash makes me see stars for a moment.

“Thank you, officers, for your support," says Nathaniel as he stands and places the camera back into his pocket. “Officer Knight, it's been a pleasure to meet you. I wish you the best in your endeavors and congratulations on joining an excellent force."

“Pleasure," I say curtly. I watch as Nathaniel gives a nod to the other officers before walking back the way he came to the still flickering streetlight. What is his deal? Why did he get to work on this case? Where did he even come from?

What I do know is that I did not like him. I did not like the way he was so easily trusted by my fellow officers. Something was off about that guy; but what?