We took separate cars to the motel. The ghoul rode shotgun. It wasn’t that far from my place. It was one of those drive-in deals like in Psycho. One level, twelve rooms. Cops and yellow tape surrounded the place. I parked in front of an Indian restaurant and met Wheatley at the entrance.

He flashed his badge and the cops separated and let us go through. The ghoul got some looks. We walked to the first room. The door was open and Wheatley paused at the door to let me go in first.

On the bed was a corpse. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. The body was naked. It was so bloated and slimy and all the features were rubbed out. And the smell was terrible, like rotten milk and eggs mixed. The closest thing I’d ever seen like it was when I came across someone who’d been in water a long time, a floater, as they’re called.

Wheatley and the ghoul stood by as I examined the corpse. I covered my nose and mouth and leaned in. There were marks on the front of the throat. Two puncture marks right up front, not on the side. Usually I’d say vampire, but this was no bloodsucker. This was something new.

I looked at Wheatley. “How many total?”

“Like I said, twelve. One in each room. There weren’t any couples.”

“What’s the coroner have to say?”

Wheatley nodded to the door. “Ask her yourself.”

I turned and there was a woman I’d never met at the door wearing a coroner’s windbreaker. She was maybe forty, tall and dark complexioned.

“Cal McDonald?” she said.

“That’s me,” I said, walking over to her. She seemed friendly enough.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Everybody says you’re trouble.”

Great.

Then she held out her hand with a smile. “I’m Dr. Monica Lynch.”

I shook her hand and tried to return the smile.

I thumbed at the body. “Any ideas?”

“Not until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination. We’re trying to figure out how to move them. They aren’t very stable.”

“Stable?”

“We tried to move one in another room, and it fell apart like Jell-O. I can’t tell much but it looks like the skeleton has been dissolved.”

“Fuck. Most motels have rubber mattress protectors. Maybe try to pull them up with all the sheet layers and you should be able to move them.”

“Good idea.”

She left.

I looked at the ghoul, who was looking at the slimy body.

“You getting anything, Mo’Lock?”

He shook his head. “Very strange.”

I asked when it had happened. Wheatley said it was overnight sometime. One of the guests was supposed to have checked out, so the manager used his key and went inside.

“Can I talk to the manager?”

Wheatley shrugged. “Sure. He’s in the office.”