The cell phone in my pocket went off. Shit! Damn it! Why do I carry these infernal gadgets? Why does anybody in their right mind need to constantly be on call?
I glanced at my watch as I took the phone in hand. It was already seven in the morning. What a life. So far, we knew that Andrew Cotton and Dara Grey had gone to the Rum Jungle for drinks and then a magic show at the Mirage. They were seen talking to two people, but it had been dark in the theater. That was what we had so far, but it was still early.
I had been at the Bellagio murder scene since a little past four in the morning. The case was really getting under my skin. The murders were brutal, primal.
‘Alex Cross,71 spoke into the phone. I turned toward the picture window revealing the lake and the desert in the distance. The view was soothing, an incredible contrast with what had happened in the hotel room.
‘It’s Jamilla, Alex. Did I wake you?’
‘No, not hardly. I wish you had. I’m at a murder scene. I’m in Las Vegas, staring out at the desert. You’re up pretty early yourself,’ I said.
It was good to hear her voice. She sounded sane and normal. She was sane and normal. I was the one in trouble.  ‘Oh, I sometimes get in to the office before six. That way I can get a day’s work done before everybody else arrives here. Alex, I have some information to share on the biting attacks.’
From the sound of her voice, I suspected this wasn’t going to make things any easier for me.
‘Go ahead, Jamilla. I’m listening.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ve been working with a couple of medical examiners from the other places where the bloodsuckers struck. I think we may have hit on something important in San Luis Obispo and then again in San Diego.’
I was listening; Jam had my full attention.
‘In both of the cities, the medical examiners............