Dexter Is Delicious (Dexter 5)

I saw Deborah’s jaw stiffen, and knowing her as well as I did I braced myself for a round or two of tough talk; she would refuse to tell him anything, since it was police business, and he would refuse to let her at his records, because doctor-patient records were confidential, and they would go back and forth until all the high cards were played, and meanwhile I would have to watch and wonder why we couldn’t just cut to the chase and break for lunch.

I was just about to find a chair and curl up with a copy of Golf Digest to wait it out—but Deborah surprised me. She took a deep breath and said, “Doctor, I got two young girls missing, and the only lead I have is a guy with his teeth fixed so he looks like a vampire.” She breathed again and held his eye. “I need some help.”

If the ceiling had melted away to reveal a choir of angels singing “Achy Breaky Heart,” I could not have been more surprised. For Deborah to open up and look vulnerable like this was completely unheard-of, and I wondered if I should help her find professional counseling. Dr. Lonoff seemed to think so, too. He blinked at her for several long seconds, and then glanced at Lloyd.

“I’m not supposed to,” he said, looking even younger than his thirty or so years. “The records are confidential.”

“I know that,” Deborah said.

“Vampire?” Lonoff said, and he peeled his own lips back and pointed. “Like here? Th

e canines?”

“That’s right,” Deborah said. “Like fangs.”

“It’s a special crown,” Lonoff said happily. “I have them made by a guy in Mexico, a real artist. Then it’s just a standard crown procedure, and the result is pretty impressive, I gotta say.”

“You’ve done that to a lot of guys?” Deborah said, sounding a bit surprised.

He shook his head. “I’ve done about two dozen,” he said.

“A young guy,” Deborah said. “Probably not more than twenty years old.”

Dr. Lonoff pursed his lips and thought. “Maybe three or four of those,” he said.

“He calls himself Vlad,” Deborah said.

Lonoff smiled and shook his head. “Nobody by that name,” he said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if they all call themselves that. I mean, it’s a kind of popular name with that crowd.”

“Is it really a crowd?” I blurted out. The idea of a large number of vampires in Miami, whether actual or fake, was a little bit alarming—even if only for aesthetic reasons. I mean, really: all those black clothes? So very New York–last year.

“Yeah,” Lonoff said. “There’s quite a few of them. They don’t all want their fangs done,” he said with regret, and then he shrugged. “Still. They have their clubs, and raves, and so on. It’s quite a scene.”

“I only need to find one of them,” Deborah said with a little bit of her old impatience.

Lonoff looked at her, nodded, and unconsciously flexed his neck muscles. His shirt collar didn’t quite pop. He pushed his lips out and then in, and, suddenly reaching a decision, he said, “Lloyd, help them find that in the billing records.”

“You got it, Doctor,” Lloyd said.

Lonoff held out his hand toward Deborah. “Good luck, ah—Sergeant?”

“That’s right,” Deborah said, shaking his hand.

Dr. Lonoff held on a little too long, and just when I thought Debs would yank away her hand, he smiled and added, “You know, I could fix that overbite for you.”

“Thanks,” Debs said, pulling her hand away. “I kind of like it.”

“Uh-huh,” Lonoff said. “Well, then …” He put a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder and said, “Help them out. I’ve got a patient waiting.” And with a last longing look at Deborah’s overbite, he turned around and disappeared into the back room again.

“It’s over here,” Lloyd said. “On the computer.” He pointed to the desk he’d been sitting at when we came in, and we followed him over.

“I’m going to need some parameters,” he said. Deborah blinked and looked at me, as if the word were in a foreign language—which I suppose it was, to her, since she did not speak computer. So once again, I stepped into the awkward void and saved her.

“Under twenty-four,” I said. “Male. Pointy canine teeth.”

“Cool,” Lloyd said, and he hammered at the keyboard for a few moments. Deborah watched impatiently. I turned away and looked at the far side of the waiting room. A large saltwater fish tank sat on a stand in the corner next to a magazine rack. It looked a little crowded to me, but maybe the fish liked it that way.

“Gotcha,” Lloyd said, and I turned around in time to see a sheet of paper come whirring out of the printer. Lloyd grabbed it and held it out to Debs, who snatched it and glared at it. “There’s just four names,” Lloyd said with a touch of the same regret Dr. Lonoff had shown, and I wondered if he got a commission on the fangs.