Chase stepped away from the bedroom. During the last month he had bothered to get some base furnishing for his small apartment, a bed included, just for the illusion that he actually used one. The coffin he had stowed in the walk-in closet, wedged wall to wall with just enough space to select his attire in the evenings upon his waking. It was stuffy, but roomier than the coffin itself, a coffin inside a coffin in some ways. He had even gotten a lock put in on the closet door for security. Laughable really, he wasn't sure why he bothered.

His date for the evening rested on his bed, drained after their encounter. She was young, early twenties he imagined, celebrating New Years at the clubs, an easy meal, eager to please and naive at heart. From the alcohol she consumed he doubted he would even need to erase her memory at all of their intimate evening. The scent of blood in the air hung on his breath, a mild perfume with the bite of liquor. She was out for the moment, and he had some things to look into for the night's passing.

He sat on the couch in front of his laptop and keyed in the security password to gain access. Out of habit he loaded up his netstats and reviewed his connections and then accessed the internet, keying in his favorite search engine. He had told the Herald he would do research on his mortal parents before resorting to more desperate acts of violence and he wasn't one to go against his word. He needed to dig up some dirt, but first he needed to know where to start looking.

Chase settled on starting with the basics and typed into the search form: Marcel Ankers. The search results turned up predictably. Business magazine articles, computer stock reviews, and technology news. He pulled up a biography from an obscure source. It began, 'Born in 1954, Mr. Ankers was a first generation American from a wealthy family of bankers. His father, Ernest Ankers, hailed from Switzerland where he had trained extensively in financial management, a trait that was obviously passed on to his son who is now recognized as a prominant multi-millionaire earning $500,000 in annual salary for his role as CEO of a software conglomorate...'

Only on the surface, thought Chase bitterly. To him, however, the man was simply the embodiment of expectations and requisite obedience. There was no fatherliness to him. And mother, too concerned with living the few remaining years of her youth after having birthed two children. The would-be starlet was simply clutching at straws to hold onto her dwindling vanity. There was less information on her, Margaret Adel Ankers, at first glance. There were several mentions of her relation to Marcel Ankers. She had always resented him for that, for completely blotting her out of the limelight. People accused her behind her back about having gotten her influence as a hollywood media executive because of her husband, which was often true. And so the two of them maintained the appearance of a family setting while in fact they both engaged in numerous affairs.

The affairs would be easy to uncover, he imagined. There was that maid, what was her name again? But when it came to matters of business, discovering any illegal operations or company dirt, that was another matter. He would have to access files from a secure administrator station. If he knew his father, any sensitive material would be sealed up tightly and only accessible by him. Would he have it at the house? His company office? Or on a personal device perhaps. All three would be potential options. Perhaps he could simply corner his father and coerce the information out of him directly... he shuddered at this thought. He doubted if he had the resolve to face his father. That man's presence had a negative affect on Chase, a psychological restraint from years of conditioned respect. Regardless of his new kindred identity he still was young as a vampire and he hadn't quite let go of his mortal baggage.

The lead company, Augury Data Systems, would be the ideal candidate for verboten dealings. Any other company and Marcel Ankers would simply disassociate himself or place blame on another underling. But if it was Augury then he wouldn't be able to save face and the company would lose stock, potentially billions of dollars. A security leak perhaps, openings or back doors in the code, hidden behind cleverly encrypted filters. Or maybe there was nothing at all, but he was sure his father was not a moral man. Men in power crave more power and money and both required cutting legal corners. No, he was sure his father held secrets.

He would start by hiring either a detective or a photographer, maybe a professional paperazzi even, there had to be a ton around hollywood. Then again, a paperazzi might well value the photos more than what Chase was willing to pay. Damn, he would have to get the evidence himself to ensure there were no liabilities. He didn't own a camera but he had a little bit of experience with a video camera in his film studies courses. He would just have to make his own little voyer film collection. The house wouldn't be difficult to stake out. Large open windows and a riverside view would allow him a clear shot. Unfortunately if he were spotted the police would likely arrive quickly. Stealth would be necessary, however, he wasn't particularly good at things like that.

He sighed at the problem and heard his guest stir in the next room with an audible moan. Hmm, first thing's first, he'd have to call a cab for the lady. Picking up his cell phone he dialed a nearby cab company and requested a cab be sent to his address. He got up from the sofa and began fumbling through the woman's purse for an ID to give them the destination address. He also took out the woman's cash from the purse to pay for the fare. He would have to be thrifty with his own remaining finances in order to set his plans in motion.