Hot Case

by Patricia Rosemoor

  I asked, “Why should I give you another chance?”

  He gave me a disgusted expression and shook his head. “You can’t always be right, Caldwell. No one can. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “That’s the thing. I didn’t make a mistake.”

  Walker came back with “But we thought you did.”

  “You wanted me to be mistaken because I solved a case you and Norelli dropped.”

  Walker threw up his hands. “You’re not an easy person to negotiate with.”

  “And Norelli is?”

  “Norelli is a good cop. He’s solved more cases than anyone in the division. The job is his life, the only one he’s got. But he’s from another era, when women didn’t make detective, so maybe you can understand that and cut him some slack. What’s your excuse?”

  My excuse? I was about to say I didn’t need one when I stopped myself. Walker seemed as if he genuinely wanted to work with me, but I was fighting it all the way. I always seemed to be fighting something or someone.

  Especially myself.

  Wasn’t that what I’d been hearing from every direction lately?

  When had this happened to me? When had I become the one who always had to be right? Who always had to win, as Silke insisted I did?

  And it could get me killed. I never would have been foolish enough to rush in without backup before the Sanford case. So maybe they had a point.

  “All right, Walker. I’ll lay off Norelli if it kills me.”

  “Good. That’s a start.”

  Only he wouldn’t think it was such a good start if he knew how much I was holding out on them. Feeling guilty about what I couldn’t—or at least was not willing to say yet—I threw him a bone.

  “Tonight, after the bar, Desiree Leath wants me to work a party at her place.”

  “What kinda party?” Norelli asked as he passed me and set his cup of coffee on his desk.

  I shrugged. “All I know is it’s private and she asked me if I could work it.”

  “Private, huh? That means you’ll be working it alone?”

  “I guess. Unless we can figure out how to get someone else on the inside.”

  “Or unless you agree to wear a wire. Your decision, of course.”

  Silence ticked between us while I held my tongue. Then I mumbled, “I’ll think about it.”

  “You do that.”

  Though I wanted to, I couldn’t really find a reason to object.

  “I need an outfit that’ll conceal a wire,” I told Silke. “A tiny microphone with—”

  “I know what a wire is. You have to wear one?”

  “I’m acting in the spirit of cooperation.”

  I’d gone to her place straight from work after giving in to a happy Norelli. I’d left as early as possible to leave myself plenty of time just in case I had to go elsewhere to find something appropriate to wear.

  “Nice that you’ve decided to cooperate with someone,” Silke said. “And the requirements of the garment would be…?”

  “Something not as revealing as a bustier.” I tried not to be aggravated by her comment, but I felt my stomach knot at her words. “The mike is tiny and black.” I held out my forefinger and thumb to indicate how small. “I need a way to camouflage it.”

  “I may have just the thing.”

  Silke brought out a top that was layered and draped and had lots of black beading, some of which was pulled into a fancy flower just below the shoulder. That would provide sufficient cover for the mike.

  “Perfect.”

  “Good.” Silke reached into the closet and pulled out a plastic cleaner’s bag to cover the top. “So what else is on your mind?”

  I threw myself on the sofa bed—open, sheets torn apart, even though it was the middle of the day. I saw that she’d been reading. Books on magic and spells. One called Wicca: a State of Mind. More of Silke’s woo-woo stuff. I rolled my eyes and flipped onto my back.

  “Where should I start?” I mused. “I have so many things to worry about.”

  Like what would whoever was tuned into me hear. To my chagrin, Jake was working the party, as well. Unless I told him I was wired—and I didn’t intend to—he was likely to say anything. Which meant I simply had to keep my distance from him as much as possible.

  “I don’t mean about the case.” Silke sat near me. “I sense something, well, personal is going on with you.”

  Leave it to Silke to read me. I sighed. “I’ve been thinking about how I operate with other people. I’m afraid I’m not a very nice person.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “People have been making comments to me lately about my personality. That I’m reckless and that I don’t cooperate.” I emphasized the last. “I guess I could be easier to get along with.”

  Silke didn’t say anything, and I accepted her silence as agreement with that assessment.

  “So how big a bitch am I?”

  “You have your moments,” she admitted with a smile. “But you’re a really good person, Shell. You just need to believe in yourself more.”

  “What?” Where had that come from? “I know I’m good at what I do.”

  “Not just at what you do. The decisions you make. When people have self-confidence issues, they tend to strike out at others to cover.”

  My jaw dropped at Silke, the psychoanalyst. I’d never seen this side of my sister’s personality before. “Wow, you still remember your Psych 101.”

  “Not exactly. Something more recent.”

  “You’re taking a class?”

  “I’ve been stretching myself for a while now. And lately, I’ve been getting, well, counseling.”

  The way she said it made me wonder the nature of the counseling. “Why?”

  “I know you think I’m always happy, but it’s not true. I have issues. And working with a counselor has helped me work through some of them. Laura thinks you could use some counseling yourself.”

  “You talk about me?”

  “Well, duh! I’m worried about you, too.”

  I didn’t know how comfortable being psychoanalyzed without my permission made me. But if it helped Silke get herself together, then that was a good thing.

  “I don’t need therapy to help me find my way,” I said confidently. “I know where I’m going and what I want to do with my life.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Okay, that was Silke humoring me. “Explain that ‘uh-huh,’ please.”

  She shook her head. “You’re not ready to hear it.”

  My irritation with her growing, I said, “Talk, or you’ll be sorry.”

  “What are you going to do—pin me? You might not like my response.”

  Now I was getting edgy. This was unfamiliar territory. In the past, I merely had to make an idle threat and Silke would be spilling her guts. She was threatening me back! As if she could hold her own against me.

  I glanced at her reading material. Magic spells? Was that what she meant—she would use magic against me? And the “counseling.” Suddenly I wondered why she hadn’t used the word “therapy.”

  Uncomfortable with my train of thought, which was speeding faster than a locomotive into uncharted territory, I popped up off the sofa bed, saying, “I should probably leave.”

  “I thought you wanted an answer.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t say something smart-ass that would stop her from telling me what was on her mind. No matter that we operated in direct opposition to one another, we had the same basic values.

  “Okay, give it to me straight.”

  “It’s just that you don’t seem to be getting along with people much these days, and I think it’s because you’re not very happy.”

  “And you think seeing a shrink again will make me happy?”

  “No, a trained professional is simply a sounding board and listens to what’s on your mind. Someone who doesn’t tell you you’re wrong every time you turn around.”

  I swallowed a gasp. She was talking about me telling h
er she was wrong. Years ago, I’d supported Silke’s right to be who or whatever she wanted. Lately I’d become judgmental, had somehow turned into our mother.

  Maybe I did need a shrink.

  Uncomfortable now, I mumbled, “I really do have to get going,” and gave my twin a quick hug before heading for the door.

  “Hey, Shell…about tonight…it’s going to get dangerous.”

  “It’ll be okay,” I assured Silke, knowing she would tune in for a blow-by-blow whether or not I wanted her in my head.

  “And the danger isn’t the kind you know.”

  “That’s clear as mud.”

  “Those books and videos I gave you—”

  “I looked some of them over,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed.

  “Then you know you can’t just cuff a vampire and bring it in for trial. You have to kill it.”

  I sighed and shook my head. Silke really was starting to believe her own fantasies.

  Suddenly, I felt her reach across the room to hold me. I swore I felt enveloped by her warmth and love, making me feel she was right there, touching me, when she hadn’t even moved.

  I blinked at her and took a step back. “That was a new one.”

  “I told you I’ve been stretching.”

  Magic and spells, Wicca, counseling…for what? To become a witch?

  I didn’t ask.

  I simply left.

  Silke waited until after dark to tune into her twin—she’d thought she’d give Shelley some private time before intruding—but station SHELL was closed for the evening.

  “Shell, you’re going to make me sick not knowing.”

  Silke concentrated and used all her energy to send that message over and over, but she knew it wasn’t being received. Shelley was an expert at tuning her out.

  Several times over the next hour, she tried tuning in to find out what was happening at the bar, but her hardheaded sister wouldn’t let her in.

  “I got you into this, and all I can do is sit here and worry.”

  Wait, perhaps, for Mom to call to say Shelley had been hurt on the job this time. Or worse.

  Her imagination blossoming, Silke paced her studio. Envisioning her twin drained of blood, she couldn’t settle down. Not when Shelley didn’t know what she was dealing with.

  “I should have made her understand. I should have made her believe me.”

  Shelley obviously hadn’t given the books and videos any credence. With nothing else to do over the past few days, Silke had been continuing her research…and looking for optimal means of protection.

  If one could really protect oneself from evil.

  When she couldn’t stand it any longer, Silke raided her wardrobe for something she hadn’t worn to the bar. She was going to find Shelley at Heart of Darkness and try to stop her from working that after-hours party at Desiree’s. And if she couldn’t stop her, then she was joining her. She found the perfect garment in the back of her closet—a backless floorlength purple velvet dress with a deep hood. Wearing this dress, added to a change in her makeup and hair color—she had some violet spray that should cover the red—no one would ever recognize her.

  Her heart thundered in her chest and her stomach felt twisted into knots. Shelley was the brave one, but she was nearly as closed minded as the cops who’d laughed at her.

  Someone who knew what was what had to watch her twin’s back, and Silke only hoped she was up for the job.

  The creature was bored waiting for the bar to close and for party time to start. The only entertainment was the mysterious woman in purple velvet who’d walked into Heart of Darkness a short time ago. Lovely in candlelight, she stirred the senses…including a vague sense of recognition.

  Come closer…

  She’d been lurking in the shadows, and her gaze kept stretching across the room to the waitress. They had that in common—Silke Caldwell as the object of their attention.

  But what was her interest?

  Moving closer, the creature was startled by the woman’s scent. It couldn’t be, but there it was. The woman in purple and the waitress…the two women were the same. The one in purple must have felt the piqued interest, for she turned, eyes wide, to meet it.

  The creature read in the open gaze that this one was aware.

  As if she sensed that acknowledgment, she turned to push through the crowd. She had a beautiful back, a long, elegant spine punctuated with a gargoyle tattoo.

  Thump-thump…thump-thump…thump-thump…

  Her heart raced as she pushed through the crowd to get away.

  Smiling, the creature followed.

  Chapter 15

  I wasn’t in top form after working double duty for a couple of days and nights, so the wire gave me some comfort. If I got into trouble, at least someone would know about it. I wondered if this party was going to be a waste of my time or if I would actually learn something of value. I planned on scoping things out and seeing what I could find out about the owner of Heart of Darkness.

  Seeing Desiree drooling over the sight of blood still had me creeped out. When I’d gone home earlier, rather than taking a nap as I’d needed to, I’d done a refresher reading about vampire cults instead. To my horror—although why I even had a sense of horror left considering the kinds of things I’d run into on the job—I had found an account of one young woman so addicted to blood, so convinced that she was the real thing, that she’d refused to eat food. Her parents had thought she was simply anorexic. Health-care providers hadn’t been able to help her. Her body had slowly but surely shut down. In the end, the young woman’s obsession with the idea of being a vampire had killed her.

  The story had reminded me of Desiree. She was so thin and pale and lately so wan that I swore she was starving herself to death.

  But she sure had been interested in that blood, I remembered, pulling up in front of her place, which was located a half mile west of the bar. It was a weird, sparsely populated area between a historic district and pockets of new condominiums and converted warehouses.

  Desiree’s home was actually an old lone gray-stone mansion, which was visibly crumbling from the outside. There was a deserted-looking firehouse on its south, a park on its north, so she had virtually no neighbors. The rowhouses across the street hadn’t yet been gentrified. Some didn’t even look occupied. Parking wasn’t a problem, which was good, because everyone seemed to be arriving at once. Patrons of the bar were mixed with a few others not in Goth disguise, including people I’d never before seen.

  The undercover team had arrived, as well, to stake out the mansion from the outside. As I got out of my car, I saw theirs pull up almost directly across the street. Tonight Norelli and Walker were taking a big chance doing the stakeout themselves. Hopefully Desiree wouldn’t spot them. Or Jake.

  Avoiding looking directly at the detectives, I headed up the concrete steps. Before I could get inside, Jake appeared from somewhere to hold the door open for me.

  “Thanks,” I said, squeezing by him.

  Despite the fact that I’d mentally put him on hold, my body didn’t seem to know that. When flesh touched flesh just for an instant, my reaction was like a kick in the gut.

  Right behind me, he asked in a low voice, “So are we friends or…”

  His breath caught me square in the back of the neck and I froze in place.

  “…acquaintances…”

  I swallowed hard.

  “…or strangers?…”

  Thankful I hadn’t yet turned on the wire, I said, “I’ll get back to you on that one.”

  I took a steadying breath and headed straight for Desiree.

  Wearing a low-cut diaphanous black gown that left nothing to the imagination even in the dim, atmospheric lighting, Desiree stood in the middle of the foyer.

  “Ah, Silke, there you are. Since you haven’t been here before, familiarize yourself with this floor. Jake will be setting up the bar in the south parlor. And I have a caterer preparing appetizers in the kitchen. You can help set th
em up in the dining room.”

  “Sure.”

  Taking a look around was a priority, but I wasn’t going to limit myself to the first floor. I would find an opportunity to get upstairs, as well.

  The mansion was dark and musty, as if it hadn’t had a good spring cleaning in years. Huge twin front parlors sat across from each other on either side of the parquet-floored foyer, where a wide staircase led the way to the second floor. One parlor was adjacent to the dining room, the other to the kitchen and back stairs to the upper floors. The antique furniture reminded me of a mausoleum and contrasted with the sudden blast of modern techno music.

  I squeezed my ears shut against the raucous sound, thinking it would be a miracle if the cops outside could hear anything over that. Which reminded me I needed to turn on the equipment and insert the wireless earpiece so I could hear Norelli. A trip to the powder room tucked under the stairs helped me accomplish that in private. I fluffed my hair around my face to camouflage the tiny receiver.

  Someone banged at the door, making me jump. “I’ll be right out!” I yelled a little too harshly. I flushed the toilet and ran the faucet to make it clear I was using the facilities.

  “Hey! Watch that!” Norelli groused through my earpiece.

  “Sorry.”

  Grinning, I left the powder room to a desperate-looking young woman and headed for the kitchen.

  For the next twenty minutes I was too busy setting out appetizers and helping to pass out drinks to do any investigating, despite the fact that Norelli prompted me a couple of times. I took pleasure in ignoring him. There wasn’t a whole lot I could do on this floor, not with so many people around.

  I, who hated my twin tuning in on my life, was cooperating to let strangers listen in. Thinking about Silke, I concentrated for a moment to assure her I was okay, but I didn’t feel her presence.

  Now, that was odd….

  “So what’s going on?” Norelli asked me, jolting me back into the moment.

  “Not a good time,” I murmured in return. Did he actually expect me to describe the scene and take a chance that someone might overhear me and know what I was doing?