Page 74 of Dead & Breakfast
Lore chuckled and patted the chair like Sal was an unruly catwho needed to be corralled at the vet. “Arthur’s records are all up-to-date, so he’s off the hook. But you, my friend, are the star of today’s show.”
Salvatore, who had never once shied away from being the center of attention before, slunk toward the chair, face downturned in an impressive pout, even for him.
“The mold will feel a little weird, but at least you don’t need to breathe. I’ll be taking an impression of your top teeth. Try not to move if you can.”
Salvatore unclenched his jaw and lay back. The last thing he said before Lore silenced him for a blessed few minutes of peace was “If I wasn’t already dead, it would probably kill me that this whole mess could have been avoided if I’d simply gone to the dentist like I was supposed to in the first place.”
Arthur sat on a small chair on wheels to the side by a window that looked out on a stretch of grassy lawn behind the dental office. A soothing breeze tickled his neck as he watched Lore take the impressions. Arthur couldn’t wait to be finished with this business. He’d never been particularly outdoorsy, but the gentle wind blowing through the window reminded him of the freedom they’d lose if the sheriff had his way. Thankfully, McMartin remained silent through the whole process, though his scowl never abated as he watched them all. Salvatore, to his credit, was a model patient, and in a minute or so, it was done.
Lore stepped back and removed her gloves. “You can rinse to get rid of the residue. We’ll be back in a few.”
“Don’t touch anything while we’re gone,” McMartin grunted, pointing to the various dental gadgets and gizmos.
“What sort of trouble do you think we could get up to with a water pick, Sheriff McMartin?” Sal batted his lashes, a picture of innocence.
McMartin glanced from the water pick to Sal and back again. “I have no idea.” He backed into the hallway, never quite taking his eyes off them until Lore stepped in front of him.
“This is all just to rule you out,” Lore said with a reassuring smile. “I know you didn’t hurt Brody.”
The door clicked shut, and Arthur and Salvatore were alone.
“Well, that was rude of him,” Sal grunted.
“He’s…just doing his job,” Arthur said, but he could hardly summon the energy to be convincing. “Badly.”
“That, too. But I meant the thing about the water pick.” Sal plucked the device from the tray and waved it around. “Could’ve at least brainstormed with me a little. Now I’ll have to come up with an idea all by myself.”
“I don’t doubt your creativity, my dear, but is this really the time?” Arthur filled a small paper cup with water from the sink and handed it to Sal. “I don’t think defiling the dentist’s exam room will earn us much favor with him or his ilk.”
“Oh! Saydefilingagain.”
Arthur declined with a shake of his head, instead opting to lace his fingers with Sal’s.
Salvatore made a dramatic show of swishing the water around his mouth and spitting in the sink.
“Absolutely horrible. There’s a reason people hate going to the dentist.” Salvatore glanced around the room, then sighed and tossed the paper cup into the trash. “Of course he doesn’t recycle.”
“Probably can’t send medical waste off to the recycling plant,” Arthur said. “There are all kinds of rules about that, you know.” He suddenly felt he could talk about recycling for hours, as long as it kept him from thinking about Lore doing whatever it was with their dental impressions in some other room.
Really, there was no need for him to fret. As soon as they wereruled out, McMartin would turn his attention to catching the actual culprit. Arthur and Salvatore would be able to continue their own investigation, and so what if they had less than twenty-four hours now to solve everything so the FPI wouldn’t show up to ruin things. They would be cleared of suspicion and free to enjoy their undeaths in peace.
“I can’t believe you didn’t have to do it, too,” Salvatore said, crossing his arms in a huff. “Really, it isn’t fair you don’t have to undergo the same torture.”
“It’s not that bad. Besides, I’ve had dental impressions before. You know I use a fang guard.” Arthur had always ground his teeth in his sleep, even before he’d become a vampire. It had been the source of their first fight as a couple, in fact, as Salvatore was unaccustomed to having his sleep disturbed by anything other than saucy propositions and Arthur hadn’t shared a bed since before his adult teeth grew in. They’d acted quickly to resolve the conflict—Arthur with dentistry and Salvatore with hanky-panky. It had worked a treat.
The door creaked open, startling Arthur into a rather ungraceful leap, but when he saw Lore in the doorway he relaxed. She hurried inside and shut the door behind her softly, then turned her pink paintball-splatter eyes to them.
“So, I’ve got some good news—”
Relief surged through Arthur. Finally.
“And some not-so-good news.”
He and Salvatore waited, staring at her.
“Um, so, as you know, vampires don’t really bite down with their entire jaw’s worth of teeth. You just use fangs. So to match a bite, we compare distance between the fangs, and size of the puncture, and the angle. That’s all the data we have, really.” Lore fidgeted with the file in her hands. “Salvatore’s fangs aren’t even close to a match.”
“That’s wonderful!” Arthur clasped a hand around Salvatore’s arm. He almost felt woozy with the overwhelming absence of fear.
