12. Nancy Drew and the Reclusive Vampire

                                    

                                              
                
                          
On Wednesday, Eleanor made the executive decision to skip her afternoon classes and go sleuthing. If she wasn't bombing economics, she would've skipped that, too. She remembered the Clinton Road address and pulled out her phone and a road map. Getting to the road wasn't difficult—parking somewhere discrete was. Gotta go with the good, old-fashioned hiking excuse, she thought. There was a local trail nearby, and she could use one of those trail head pull-off lots, hike about an hour, and then do a road walk over to the driveway.
                          
Eleanor turned her music down and pulled out her cell phone. She didn't like to talk while she drove, but she never looked away from the road to dial. Besides, she'd loose reception on the back roads, and she wasn't about to break the first rule of solo trips: leave a detailed trip itinerary.

                          
The phone rang twice before Jo picked up. "Hey," she answered. Rock music thumped in the background, and Eleanor frowned.
                          
"You're at work?" she asked, recognizing the fuzzy climbing gym speaker system. "What happened to getting some R and R?"
                          
"Girl's gotta eat," Jo said.
                          
"But rock climbing—"
                          
"Relax, I'm just supervising," Jo huffed. "There's a teen birthday party coming in tonight, so stay away."
                          
Eleanor shuddered. "Good to know, but I'm putting on my detective cap today."
                          
"No," Jo hissed. "You shouldn't go alone. If it's not a vampire, those people will call the cops on you."
                          
"Higgins knows me," Eleanor said with a confidence she didn't feel. "Besides, I'd take cops over vampire any day. It could om nom nom—" she made gobbling noises "—me before I get the chance to stab its ugly butt."
                          
"I could've gone with you," Jo groaned into the phone. "Brought my stinky garlic and everything."
                          
"Got my magic plant," Eleanor said, wrinkling her nose. There was no mistaking the stench of the garlic scrape, which was starting to wither in her backpack. She wasn't going to take the scrape but the oil distilled from it. She put the oil into a squirt bottle, hoping that spraying a vampire with it would do something--anything--to slow it down. But there were those claw marks on the roof...
                          
She shivered, even though the Tracker was stuffy. She said, "Look, I'll swing by the gym by sunset at seven. If I don't, then you call the cops, m'kay?"
                          
Jo sighed. "Happy stabbings, Buffy," she said, and Eleanor hung up the phone. It would've been smart to ask Jo to go with her, but this thing had already gotten to her friend. She didn't want to put Jo at risk twice.
                          
So you'll just dangle yourself as bait—nice, that scolding voice in the back of her head said.
                          
She parked in the little, dirt lot beside the river. It would be a hike uphill, but she had her trail runners and could move at a brisk pace. She pulled out the trail map, studying it with her trunk open. The sun made her sweat even though a stiff breeze came off the water and chilled her, causing little hairs to stand up on her arms and legs.
                          
"Water, check," she said, loading her pack and muttering to herself. "Maps, check. Compass, check. Sharp knives, check. Spray bottle, check."
                          
Eleanor sighed, slamming her trunk. Time to hunt a vampire—here's to hoping it doesn't hunt me, she thought wryly, heading towards the trail.
                          
She climbed the rocks, using them like stairs. This blue-blazed trail wasn't as well-marked as others, but she didn't have problems following it. The trail plunged over the next hill and skirted up another rocky slope before dropping down onto the dirt path that doubled as Clinton Road. Eleanor set her mouth into a determined yet grim smile. She had been right; it took about an hour to make the hike, and she turned down the road. At first, there were several other houses grouped together, but further down, Clinton Road was surrounded by solid woods so thick she couldn't see more than several yards into the forest.