Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 4-6

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Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 4-6 Page 11

by Heather Silvio


  “Anything specific?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wouldn’t that suggest the driver did it on purpose?”

  “It would.”

  “Any background on the driver to suggest a motive?”

  “Nope.”

  The press suggested it might be a terrorist attack.”

  Jacob frowned. “The press would do well not to speculate at the drop of a hat.”

  I laughed, knowing there was no love lost between Elizabeth Addison and his girlfriend, Mia. “So probably not terrorism?”

  “There’s no evidence to suggest that.”

  “Then why would he do it?”

  “We’re still investigating, ma’am,” Jacob said.

  “Could he have done it on behalf of someone else?”

  “That’s my prevailing theory,” he admitted. “Someone who did have a reason to kill the candidates.”

  I chewed on my lower lip. “Any suspects?”

  Jacob gave me a blank look and I blanched.

  “I’m a suspect.”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny—”

  “And, I presume Mr. Mammon is a suspect.”

  “I can neither—”

  I held up a hand to stop him. “I know, you can neither confirm nor deny my presumption.” I tapped my fingernails on the desk. Jacob’s eyes cut to them and he watched the fire engine red nails tap, tap, tap. My fingernails stilled and he met my gaze.

  “I know you don’t like me,” I began. Jacob had a good poker face. “I also know you know I am… paranormal.” Still no reaction. “Understand that I expect you to do your job.” He narrowed his eyes at my tone. “I expect you to find out who the actual killer is; prove it isn’t me.”

  Jacob chuckled. “Ma’am, with all due respect, you only got half of that right. I will do my job and find the killer. If you aren’t the killer,” he gave a fierce smile, “then you have nothing to worry about.”

  I nodded. “That sounds fair.”

  His eyes narrowed in disbelief.

  “I can be fair. Sometimes a reputation is just a reputation,” I reminded him.

  “That’s true.”

  “Have I answered all of your questions?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be in touch if any follow up is necessary.” He stood and I did not.

  I inclined my head in response and he stepped from the room. Once he closed my office door, I rose from the desk and stood at the window, overlooking Main Street.

  I was clearly a prime suspect. Was that because I hadn’t been on the bus? I supposed that was a big factor, given that Mark Mammon was also a suspect.

  But, I figured I was more of a suspect than Mark. Not because I had more of a reason to want to eliminate the competition; if that were the sole factor, Mark would have that honor.

  No, I knew I was the prime suspect based on my history with Detective Dawson and the Paranormal Talent Agency. So previously I mis-stepped and hired a contract killer to eliminate a witch. I hadn’t been successful. Couldn’t a demon catch a break?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Well, this is a surprise,” I told the lanky man standing in my doorway. He didn’t buy my forced casual tone. Liam Collins, angel and my ex-boyfriend from many, many years ago, somehow was at my house in Las Vegas. Would wonders never cease.

  Liam squinted his Caribbean blue eyes and tilted his head. “You look… different.”

  “Old.”

  “Mature.”

  “Old,” I insisted, but with a laugh.

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “I arrived in Vegas twenty years ago at 25; I needed to age accordingly.”

  Liam nodded, eyes twinkling. “You still look good.”

  “For an old lady.”

  “For an any-age woman.”

  My cheeks flushed. Dang, that man could still get me, even after hundreds of years. He ran a hand through his curly brown hair, still a touch too long and unruly, and gave me a crooked smile.

  “May I come in?”

  I stepped aside to allow him access, enjoying the view from behind as much as from the front. But this was a no-win rabbit hole for me. I made my choice a long time ago. Liam paused just inside the door, waiting for me to lead the way. He followed me to the black leather couches in the living room. I didn’t miss the frown flit across his face. Guess he didn’t like the décor.

  “To what do I owe the honor of your visit? I had a long day at work and I’m tired.”

  Liam allowed a bittersweet smile before getting down to business. “I would like to request your assistance.”

  “So formal.”

  “It seems appropriate, now.”

  “Because I’m the head of the supernatural underworld for the Vegas region?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What can I assist you with?”

  “Mark Mammon ordered the hit on the mayoral candidates.”

  I raised a single eyebrow. “That’s a bold accusation.” Not that I disagreed.

  “You were supposed to be on that bus.”

  Anger surged through me at this apparent confirmation. “Was I?”

  Liam laughed, the loud sound echoing through my cavernous space. “You’re kidding, right? The Barbara I knew would never have doubted it.”

  A small sigh escaped. “You’re right. I knew. To hear it confirmed…”

  Liam reached out to touch a lock of my brown hair, recently set free from my typical bun I wore for work. “I’m glad you weren’t on the bus.”

  I jerked back and he dropped his hand. “Thank you. Though you know it wouldn’t have hurt me.”

  “Still.”

  An uncomfortable warmth spread through me. “Does Mark know I’m a demon?” I changed the subject.

  “We don’t know.”

  “He would know a bus crash couldn’t kill me,” I continued, more to myself. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

  “I’d like to request your help in us proving his guilt, so he can be held accountable.”

  “Us?”

  He smirked. “You know them. A group connected with… I believe its nickname is the Paranormal Talent Agency.”

  My eyes rolled in reflex at the phrase and Liam chuckled.

  “I guess you do know them.”

  “How do you know them?”

  “I was told to reach out to Mia, and she introduced me to Catherine.”

  Catherine Rodham, head of the Paranormal Talent Agency in Las Vegas. Mia Fynn, film producer and 200-year-old nixie. And, Jacob, Mia’s boyfriend, had already interviewed me. I wondered when Evie Jones, the snarky vampire actress, would pop up too. Were we getting the whole band back together? I snorted. “What’s the plan?” The image of the dark-haired man from my vision surfaced. Could it have been Liam, not Mark?

  Liam tilted his head again. “What just went through your mind?”

  I hesitated. Oh heck, why not? He already knew about my precognitive powers. “I had a premonition about a dark-haired man involving power and betrayal.” And love, my mind reminded me. I smacked that thought down.

  Liam nodded. “That could definitely be Mark. He’s certainly power-hungry and wouldn’t hesitate to betray you.”

  “He already tried to kill me,” I responded drily.

  “Too true.”

  “Here’s the thing. If I’m being completely honest—” His eyebrows rose a fraction and I flushed. “—my involvement in the past has not gone well with the Agency.”

  “I heard they cost you a minion.”

  “Nice, Liam, very nice.” He chuckled and I grinned. This felt so easy, like before— My grin dropped. “My plan had been to stay out of it. The vision was quite indistinct.” And I don’t want to make a mistake, my mind added. I grimaced.

  “That doesn’t sound like the Barbara I know, either. You want to stay on the sidelines, licking your wounds?” The taunt was gentle, but still I bristled. His reverse psy
chology was totally going to work.

  “Fine, I’ll help.”

  “Fantastic,” he replied with a broad smile.

  “Did you win the bet?”

  “Bet?”

  “I know you. Since gambling with river rocks as a boy, you always liked wagering.”

  He winked.

  “Did you win the bet with, I’m guessing Catherine, on whether or not I’d agree to help?”

  His smile widened. “Maybe.”

  I laughed, and suddenly was very aware of the heat between us. Just like old times; 100 years together left an impression. Our smiles fell at the same time and his blue eyes gazed into my black ones. He broke the contact first, rising to his feet and heading toward the front door.

  “I’ll let the crew know and we’ll make plans to meet,” he called over his shoulder.

  I stood slower and followed him to the door, where he paused and faced me.

  “I’m sorry for the circumstances, Barbara, but I’m glad to see you.”

  I nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”

  Liam’s smile wavered at my failure to echo his sentiment. “I’ll get your number from Catherine and let you know when we’re meeting tomorrow. Is there any time that doesn’t work for you?”

  I shook my head. Mute.

  He took my hand in his, warmth suffusing me. “Until tomorrow.” He released my hand and closed the door.

  I walked back to the couch and collapsed on the supple surface. Working with the Paranormal Talent Agency crew could be a good thing. It would keep me in the loop. And they might even have some good ideas, I grudgingly admitted.

  My involvement had nothing to do with Liam, with the way he looked at me, how my body responded when he touched my hair, my hand. Nope, not at all.

  Then why was I counting down the hours until I saw him again?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Production staff called out uncomfortable greetings as I strode past them. I managed not to roll my eyes. Sycophants. None of them liked me, they just feared me. Like I’d care if they didn’t say hello. Okay, maybe I’d care. Luckily, my unhelpful thoughts short-circuited when I spotted the group with whom I was meeting.

  Liam had texted the address this morning – an independent film location in Sun City. A simple three-bedroom, one-story home in the 55+ community within Summerlin. Since most of the group was in the entertainment world, and my image involved keeping my finger on the pulse of that industry, nobody would question my presence. Even if they weren’t thrilled by it.

  Chatter ceased the moment I stood in the doorway of a back bedroom. An eight-foot, white, plastic folding table sat in the middle of the space. A group of actors and crew, a mix of human and supernatural, occupied the metal folding chairs surrounding the table.

  Liam jumped to his feet and hurried to me. “Barbara, welcome. We’re glad you’re here.”

  “Not all of us,” a voice muttered and Evie Jones smirked when our eyes met. The 1920s blond vampire actress was easily the snarkiest of the bunch.

  “Evie, that’s enough,” Catherine Rodham, head of the Paranormal Talent Agency, chastised her, but with a smile in her blue eyes.

  Liam led me to an empty chair between him and Catherine. I lowered into the uncomfortable seat and gazed around the table. In addition to Liam, Catherine, and Evie, four others were present. Including Robin, my ex-minion (also a witch and owner of another talent agency) and her new boyfriend, Jackson, the witch who I tried unsuccessfully to have killed a few months ago. Guess they were willing to let bygones be bygones. I honed in on one of the humans present.

  “Jacob, I didn’t know you involved civilians in your cases.”

  “Ma’am, even you must admit they’ve demonstrated their helpfulness before,” he responded, his eyes meeting his girlfriend’s. Mia blushed.

  “Touché. What’s the plan?” I wanted to get down to business so I could leave. The tension radiating off the group around me was suffocating. I imagined Catherine was struggling with the emotions too, given her empath abilities; although I wasn’t sure she understood the extent of them yet any more than I did.

  “I’ve caught everyone up. Our goal is to stop Mark Mammon,” Liam began, blue eyes sparking, “before anyone else gets hurt.” Everyone murmured their agreement. “Thoughts on how to do that?”

  “Can’t we just hire someone to kill him?” I asked, as a joke. Nobody laughed. Tough crowd. “I’m kidding,” I assured them.

  “It’s a bit too soon for that,” Robin bit off.

  Maybe we weren’t letting bygones be bygones. I stayed quiet.

  “We need to, at a minimum, incapacitate him,” Liam said, “but, like it or not, we may need to eliminate him.”

  “That doesn’t seem necessary,” Catherine objected.

  “I hate to agree with the demon,” Evie chimed in, “except that she and Liam are probably right. Mark’s a demon—” Her eyes cut to mine. “—and we know how difficult they can be.”

  “Hey, I’ve never actually killed anyone,” I protested.

  “Not for lack of trying,” Jackson tossed off.

  “I’m sorry that I tried to kill you,” I told him formally. “It seemed the most expedient at the time. I was mistaken.” I thought I was mistaken, anyway; I failed, certainly.

  “Thank you,” he accepted hesitantly. “I guess.”

  “Evie and Liam are right,” Mia said, and several people gasped. I supposed she was usually peacemaker. I knew her kind could use their voices to calm beings down; and bewitch people, but I doubted that was the reason for the gasps.

  “You can’t mean that,” Catherine argued.

  Mia ran her hand through her green hair and shrugged. “He’s a demon bent on removing threat and consolidating power.” She deliberately avoided eye contact with me. This wasn’t awkward at all. Not one bit. She continued. “Unlike some—” She threw me a bone. “—I don’t think he’d be amenable to backing off.”

  “We don’t know that,” Catherine said.

  “Besides, folks, planning to kill someone is a crime,” Jacob the homicide detective reminded the table. “Let’s be clear on this. Our goal is to stop him, not kill him. If he dies in the process, that’s different.”

  “Since Mark texted Barbara before the crash, it would make sense that she would be our liaison to him, so to speak,” Evie said. Nods of agreement met her statement.

  “We need to get him to admit to causing the crash,” Jacob added.

  “Or hiring someone to do it,” Robin amended, with a side glance at me.

  I sighed.

  “Will you want her to wear a wire?” Liam asked. Did I hear an undertone of concern?

  Jacob shook his head. “Given how you supernatural folks are—” Mia gave him a playful smack on the arm and he smiled. “It’s probably better if at least some of us are present, including me. That way, she just needs to get him to admit he did it. Then I can arrest him.”

  “Sounds so simple when you put it that way,” Evie said drily and I laughed. Heads swiveled toward me.

  “He’s a demon. We don’t know his power. It could be passive or active,” I reminded them.

  Jacob frowned. “What’s the likelihood it’s active?”

  I shrugged. “If he caused the accident himself, then I’d say it’s pretty active. If he hired someone, he probably has a passive power. I don’t know.”

  “That’s not very helpful, Barbara,” Evie taunted.

  “Watch the glowing, ma’am,” Jacob warned and I realized my eyes were burning red.

  “Regardless of his power type, our goal is to get him to admit he caused or ordered the accident. If his power type turns out to be active, you guys can do your thing,” I waved my hand dismissively.

  “Our thing saved Jackson and thwarted your plans,” Robin spat out.

  “Thwarted?” I snorted. I took an emotional step back. “Look, I get that none of you like me.” Except maybe Liam. I hoped. “I app
reciate your willingness to help me.” And I was a bit surprised to discover that was true. It had been a long time since I felt connected to anyone, even superficially. “We have five days until the election. Five days to stop him. Since I’m in his crosshairs, I’ll be our liaison, bait, whatever you want to call it.”

  “This is starting to be a habit with us,” Catherine said with a shake of her head.

  “Let’s plan on two meetings with Mark.” Liam said. “The first one, to explore and build rapport, and the second one, to get an admission of guilt and lower the boom.”

  Nods of agreement again.

  “We’ll start tonight.” He met my gaze. “I’ll stay with Barbara for this one.”

  A flush crept up my neck and I wondered if the others could see it. “That’s acceptable,” I agreed, and Liam grinned.

  “This is quite a vehicle,” Liam commented as he hoisted himself into the Escalade. I ignored the veiled barb and started the engine. It purred in response. The drive from Sun City to my gated community took about thirty minutes; thankfully construction on Summerlin Parkway was finally completed. At least for now.

  Liam stared out the window into the dark for the entirety of the drive. I tapped my fingers on the leather steering wheel in time to the 1980s music on the radio. Yeah, I liked my 80s rock.

  “Keep it simple,” Liam finally spoke once we were seated on the couch.

  I raised a single eyebrow.

  “I know you know what you’re doing,” he clarified. “But, you know, when you send the text, keep it simple.” He smiled, dimples forming on his cheeks, and I laughed.

  “Got it, boss.” I found Mark’s previous text and started typing.

  We need to meet.

  We do?

  Yes. Tonight.

  Where?

  My house.

  Be there in thirty.

  “He knows where you live?” Liam’s tone betrayed his concern and irritation.

  “He’s never been here before. It’s public record.”

  “Hmm, okay.”

  “What do we do while we wait?”

  An unreadable look crossed Liam’s face before he responded. “Let’s review our game plan.”

 

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