Violets Are Blue

crime-scene tape was set up near the intersection of Beaufain and Rutledge. The Charleston police had surrounded the area and were watching everybody as if the killers might return.
    I finally saw Kyle waiting under a spreading shade tree, and I walked toward him. The morning was warm, but there was a breeze off the ocean that smelled of salt and fish. Kyle had on his usual attire: gray suit, white shirt, and nondescript blue tie. He looked like the playwright and actor Sam Shepard, even more so today than usual. Kyle looked gaunt, tired, almost as haunted as I felt. The murders were getting to him too. Something was.
    “It must have been like this yesterday morning, though it was earlier when they struck the couple,” I said as I came up to Kyle. “No one saw anything? No witnesses in an area like this? That’s what I read in the police briefs.”
    Kyle sighed. “We actually have a witness who saw two men hurrying out of the park. Man in his mid-eighties. He said he thought he saw blood on the shirts of the men, and he felt he was mistaken. Then he found the bodies.”
    I quickly surveyed the scene at Colonial Lake again. The sun was shining brightly, and I was forced to shade my eyes. Birds were twittering in several of the trees. The park was so open to scrutiny. “They were out in broad daylight. Some vampires,” I muttered.
    Kyle eyed me. “You’re not starting to believe in vampires?”
    “I believe that there are people who practice a vampire lifestyle,” I told him. “I know some of them believe they’re vampires. Even some of the role-players sport very sharp teeth. Fangs. They can be violent. I haven’t seen any shape-changers yet. Otherwise our witness might have seen a couple of furry bats winging it out of here instead of two men. That’s supposed to be funny, Kyle. What else did our witness say about the men he saw?”
    “Not a lot. He thought they were young, Alex. Twenties or thirties, which covers a hell of a lot of territory. They were walking quickly but didn’t seem alarmed that he saw them. He’s eighty-six, Alex. He seems, shall we say, distracted by all the attention he’s getting.”
    “Whoever the killers are, they’re certainly bold. Or stupid. I wonder if these are the same bastards we chased through California and Nevada.”
    Kyle lit up a little. He had something to tell me. “My people in Quantico were up half the night. Again. Alex, they’ve come up with a dozen East Coast cities with unsolved murders that could be connected to the others.”
    “What’s the time frame of the murders?” I asked.
    “That’s the really interesting part. This may have been going on for a long time. Nobody seems to have put these cases together before we came along. The time frame is at least eleven years.”

Chapter 43

    THAT NIGHT, Kyle and I had dinner with a good friend in Charleston. Actually, Kyle made the arrangements, including reservations at the Grille on North Tyron.
    Kate McTiernan hadn’t changed much since we had been thrown together during the Casanova murder spree in Durham and Chapel Hill, North Carolina. When the murderer Casanova had kidnapped Kate in her house outside Chapel Hill, he’d believed she was the most beautiful woman in the South.
    Not only that, Kate was extremely smart. She was a doctor now, a pediatrician, but she was thinking about becoming a surgeon.
    When Kate arrived at our table, Kyle and I were deep in conversation. Actually, we were arguing about possible next steps in the investigation.
    “Hi, guys.” Lustrous brown hair framed Kate’s face. She was wearing her hair longer these days. Her eyes were dark blue with a nice sparkle. She was still in terrific shape, but I knew she was a softie deep inside.
    “Give it up,” Kate said. “You boys are working way too hard. We’re going to have some fun tonight.”
    Seeing her there got us both up out of our chairs, grinning like idiots. We’d gone through a lot together and survived to be together again for this unlikely dinner in Charleston.
    “This is a great coincidence. I was at a medical conference just outside town,” Kate said as she sat down with us.
    “Alex doesn’t believe there are coincidences,” Kyle said.
    “Well, fine. So here we are again, brought together by divine intervention or whatever, praise the Lord,” Kate said, and grinned.
    “You seem in excellent spirits, Kate,” Kyle said. He was actually pretty buoyant himself.
    “Well, Kyle, this is just such a