Wild Cards

by Katalina Leon

  Pallor had washed over his dusky face. His unease elicited her sympathy. “Scared of elevators?”

  He nodded and his attention remained fixed on the toes of his boots. “Yes.”

  Hoping he wouldn’t take her concern as pity, she tried to sound neutral. “We could have taken the stairs. I don’t mind.”

  “This is faster.” He gulped. “And I’m sure easier on you. Standing all day in the pit can’t be comfortable.”

  “Thank you.” He looked terrified. Obviously, he really didn’t want to be inside a metal box hanging from a steel cable. “That was considerate of you.”

  Staring at the top panel of the ceiling, he released a heavy exhale. “I’m not sure Roy’s on the right track. It seems like we’re looking for a metaphysical explanation to the twins’ death when there may not be one.”

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Kai’s broad shoulders visibly relaxed.

  She stepped into a bland, harshly lit corridor with beige carpet and tan walls.

  Kai followed.

  “What about Earl’s comments?”

  “This way.” He pointed toward a set of steel-trimmed doors. The swagger had returned to his step. “Blindly take the word of a cat? No, too risky. The likely cause of death is family tension and a well-aimed firearm. According to Puss in Boots, the brothers fought on the way here. There may be underlying problems we don’t know about. This could be a simple case of murder-suicide and a complete waste of PHD time.”

  “I disagree.” Adara hurried to keep up with his brisk pace, all the while wondering if he was hesitant about working with her. At that moment, she’d give anything for a quick peek into his mind. “There’s nothing simple about twin fratricide at an occult convention in Vegas. How do you explain the odd water phenomena you’ve encountered or my inability to soulscan? A brotherly feud wouldn’t cause those problems. These murders have a metaphysical connection and you know it.”

  He shook his head. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “I don’t get it. You’re a PHD. Why would you become a paranormal house detective if you aren’t open to the strong possibility that many crimes committed in Vegas have—how shall I phrase it—an otherworldly quality about them?”

  “Just so you know, I didn’t choose this job. I was assigned here under protest.” He pushed on the steel-trimmed door. The overpowering smell of blood, sulfur, and patchouli oil wafted toward them. Kai covered his mouth with his hand. “Damn glad I skipped breakfast.”

  “Oh!” She reeled backward and struggled not to gag. A man wearing a coon cap lay face-up on the cement floor of the laundry room surrounded by a pool of blood. An ashy powder covered his face. His chest had been torn open and his heart ripped out.

  Burt stepped from behind an industrial-sized clothes dryer, looking green around the gills. “Thank God. You’re here. I gotta get some air before we secure the area, which will be in about two minutes tops. A forensics team is en route. We can’t risk contaminating the crime scene. I don’t need to remind anyone not to touch anything, do I?” He pointed to the victim on the floor. “Give Davy Crockett a wide berth. Take a quick look around. I’ll be waiting in the corridor for the team. When you hear me greet them, vamoose out the back exit. You were never here. Got it?” He hurried toward the door.

  “Wait,” she called after Burt. “Who discovered the body?”

  “A woman who works in housekeeping, but she’s not an employee of ours. One of the independent contractors sent her. Poor thing; it was her first day on the job. She’s already talking to the cops, bawling her eyes out. Better get moving on this; you don’t have long.” Burt pushed the door open and left.

  Adara surveyed the carnage in horror. This was worse than a slasher movie. “Do I even need to say it?”

  Kai’s heavy brows knit like two rams butting heads. “You’re right. This isn’t a simple murder-suicide.”

  She studied the dead man’s face. Her stomach did an uneasy little flip. “Look at the coating stuck to his skin. What do you think it is?”

  He knelt, but touched nothing. “I’m not sure. It’s grainy, like sand or ashes, and fine enough that it clung to the sweatiest parts of his face. Charles ran like a rabbit out of room 214. The surveillance camera shows him darting down the stairwell and around a corner, and yet another surveillance camera recorded a raccoon running down the stairs.”

  “This man is wearing a raccoon-skin cap. Could it be a totem of some kind? Do you think we could be looking at a shape-shifter crime? Maybe there’s some sort of turf war going on that management is unaware of.”

  He seemed to be considering her comment. “What else do you know about skinwalkers?”

  She shrugged. “Not a lot. But I know an expert who does.”

  “Who? Will they talk to us?”

  Her breath caught. If she didn’t get fresh air soon, she was sure to gag. “I would hope so. He’s my—”

  “Hey!” Burt bellowed from the corridor. “You guys took forever to get here.”

  “Don’t nag,” Jenkins called out. “We’ve been sort of busy upstairs.”

  “Damn. We’re out of time.” Kai rose. “Follow me. Officially, the forensics team doesn’t know about our PHD department. They might suspect, but I don’t want to spend the afternoon trying to explain it to them.”

  Grateful to get away from the ghastly scene, she was careful about where she stepped on the blood-slick floor.

  He led them past a long row of industrial-sized washing machines and pushed a swinging door open with his elbow. They entered another nondescript corridor with a massive service elevator at the end. Taking in the sight, he looked shaken.

  “Is there another way? I volunteer to take the stairs.”

  Eyeing the gaping maw of the elevator’s open doors, he stepped aside and motioned for her to get inside first. “It’s okay. I can do this.”

  She entered and punched the button for the second floor. “I didn’t have the chance back there to do my thing. No conclusive impressions. I did sense the residue of some heavy-duty magic. No doubt about it, somebody is practicing dark sorcery in this hotel.”

  “Did you notice what was missing?”

  “From Charles Coldburn’s chest?” A wave of queasiness constricted her throat. “I definitely noticed his heart was missing.”

  “Ripped right out of his ribcage like a scene from Alien. And it wasn’t tossed on the floor or stuffed in his mouth, which is what I’d expect from the sort of hardcore psycho who could do something like this. I didn’t see it, a weapon, or a blood trail anywhere. Did you?” He followed her inside. The elevator doors shut and the grinding ascent began. Squeak, squeak, squeak. The cab shimmied slightly from side to side. Kai appeared anxious. The line of his mouth drew taut.

  Placing her hand on her belly, she drew a shallow breath. “I don’t feel so good. Patchouli oil and guts don’t mix.”

  His gaze met hers with sympathy. “I don’t blame you. It was pretty bad back there.”

  She leaned against the wall to steady her shaking legs. “I’m an empath. I’m used to seeing and feeling other people’s shadow stuff, but I’ve never been to the scene of a homicide and actually stood over the victim. I feel sick.”

  With chin tucked, he stared at his boots. “I’m sorry Roy asked you to get involved. It wasn’t fair to you. I’ve heard about the good work you do in the pit. That’s where you belong. If I’d known what was behind that door, I would have warned or spared you.”

  Was he being patronizing or protective? She couldn’t tell. “I’m not a damsel in distress. Roy was right to put me on this case. If I can use my skills to protect innocent people and stop these gruesome crimes, then I’m willing to buck up and deal. The crime scene had supernatural stamped all over it.”

  Karunk! The elevator lurched to a jarring halt.

  Kai gasped and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Without a thought, she reached out and grabbed his hand. “It’s okay.”

  His fin
gers meshed with hers and held her in a firm squeeze.

  A moment later, the elevator was on its way again. Squeak, squeak, squeak.

  Cautiously, she withdrew her hand. “Did you see that?”

  “No, but I sure as hell felt it. For crying out loud, when are they going to fix this damn elevator?”

  “Not the elevator.” She brushed her fingertips against his the side of his arm. “I meant did you notice that I touched you and nothing horrible happened. No burst of steam, nothing.”

  “Yeah. That is odd. We’re both elementals, and not necessarily harmonious ones. We shouldn’t have been able to touch without a consequence.”

  “I have no idea what’s going on.” Kai seemed decent and much more approachable than she’d expected. She looked into his lustrous gaze, wishing she could get a clear reading on him. “First I lose my soulscanning skills and now this. I don’t like it.”

  His eyes filled with emotion before he quickly glanced away. “Hopefully it won’t last and you’ll be back to normal soon.”

  “You mean my normal.” What did that even mean? She’d never been normal. Being an empath was often a drag. It was hard to soulscan someone, see their inner truth, then listen to the contrary lies rolling casually off their tongue. Humans were naturally conflicted creatures, especially the men she met in Vegas. Soulscanning as a profession had become a personal liability. It made falling in love with someone nearly impossible.

  The elevator doors opened onto an empty corridor dotted with cleaning carts heaped high with laundry and plastic trash bags.

  He stepped out of the elevator.

  She followed in a half-daze, wondering who or what was physically strong enough to reach through a man’s shirt and tear his heart out. Was this an act of brute force or laser-focused enchantment?

  “I know your empathetic skills are a little haywire today, but I think we should check out the first crime scene. Maybe you can pick up some useful bit of information?”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.” She sighed. “Today, all psychic impressions are cloudy. It’s like my third eye has a cataract.”

  “Really, that can happen to a third eye?”

  “No.” She laughed. “It’s a joke.”

  “You have a pretty laugh.” His faint smile flickered then faded. “And it’s really nice to hear it after seeing something like what we just saw.”

  “Thanks.”

  Drawing a deep breath to recharge himself, Kai’s pulse returned to normal. Part of him worried that Adara might be more affected by what she’d witnessed than she realized. She seemed cool, almost detached from recent events, and wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever known. Another part of him had to admire how well she managed. Hell, it was her first dead body too, and she handled it like a champ.

  They strolled toward Roy’s office. From a side hallway, two police officers crossed their path, escorting a petite, middle-aged woman dressed in a pale green scrubs-like uniform. Her lank hair was scraped back in a ponytail. The woman’s attention was trained on the floor and she looked distraught or in shock.

  Kai recognized one of the officers. “Sam!”

  A burly red-haired officer with a rosy freckled face came to a halt. “Kai. What’s up? I expected to see you on the night shift.”

  He approached Sam. “I’m still working the night shift. The dark stuff started a little early today.”

  Sam’s gingery brows rose. “No kidding. I’m taking our witness downtown to make a statement.”

  He looked at the witness, unable to gauge her reaction to any of this. “Is this the lady who found Charles Coldburn’s body?”

  “Yep.” Sam was a big guy with biceps the size of Easter hams and looked like he squeezed every dime out of his gym membership. “I don’t think she speaks English, or much Spanish for that matter. I tried to talk to her, but she was too hysterical. Actually, we just got her to stop screaming, so thank God for small victories. She might be speaking some sort of Central American native dialect, but I’m not an expert.”

  The woman didn’t appear hysterical. She lifted her face with an expression as hard as flint. Her shark-like eyes were fathomless to a disturbing degree. What might have been a state of shock made her appear detached. Her gaze roamed toward Adara and the faintest glint of acknowledgement flitted across her lips.

  Sam placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder and gently prodded her forward. The woman reached up to scratch her cheek, revealing a tattoo on her wrist of a large black spider. “Gotta go.” He and the other officer escorted the woman toward the front entrance.

  He watched the witness as she was led away, then drew his phone from his pocket and clicked it on. “I think we should call Roy.”

  The phone buzzed and a moment later, Roy picked up. “Kai, are you in a secure spot where you can talk?”

  He glanced around the broad corridor. “We’re out of earshot of others, if that’s what you mean.”

  “How was it?”

  Adara stood at his side, concern clearly displayed on her face.

  Wanting to spare her, he dropped his voice. “It was bad, Roy, real bad. Heart ripped out… and missing.”

  “Did you see any helpful clues at the crime scene?”

  Seriously? They’d barely had time to get a noxious whiff and glimpse the carnage. “We were only inside for a minute. Forensics is down there now. All I can say is there’s some dark shit going on, and the killer might still be in the hotel.”

  “Don’t return to HQ.” Roy sounded somber.

  Tapping his foot nervously, he hesitated. What was Roy up to? “Sir?”

  “Report to the costuming department at the Theater A showroom.”

  “The showroom?” His jaw dropped. This was madness. “I just told you the killer is probably walking around here ready to pick off the next victim, so why would I need to see a show? We’ve got to get on this now.”

  “Listen carefully.” Roy’s voice took on a terse tone that defied contradiction. “Whoever is responsible for today’s carnage has done an excellent job of remaining out of frame of every security camera, and possibly even jammed Ms. Torris’s psychic radar. It’s time to face the possibility that we are dealing with supernatural forces equal to or superior to our own. I’m going to shift tactics.”

  Hoping Roy would talk sense, he tried to refocus. “What’s the plan?”

  “No more keeping our distance. You’re going to get face–to-face with the group. More guests just arrived who are registered for the occult arts convention. It’s safe to say you won’t be recognized as hotel employees by the newbies. You and Ms. Torris are going to dress like members of the occult community are expected to dress. Then you’re going to join the convention in Ballroom C and get an inside perspective of what we’re dealing with. But first you’re going to make everyone jealous.”

  “Uh?” He glanced at Adara.

  She tilted her head. “What did Roy say?”

  “I’m setting you up with one of the high rollers’ suites.” Roy’s tone was casual, which seemed inappropriate for the moment. “We want the uber-competitive wizards and witches to believe the two of you are a power couple peddling your services at the convention.”

  He didn’t like the sound of this. “To what end?”

  “Based on what Earl Grey said, I’m inclined to believe this occult arts convention is a showcase event for high-end professionals. Take charge of the event. Do a lot of bragging. We want to worry the competition. Cause some friction. Hopefully, draw the killer or killers into the open. Let’s see what happens when we inject a talented, well-funded pair of sorcerers into the mix. My guess is you’ll immediately attract the wrong sort of attention. It’s the easiest way to get you both inside the convention and make sure everyone notices the two of you. Use the penthouse as a lure. Invite likely suspects to a private party. We can collect prints and DNA.”

  Kai’s anger rose. “One victim was shot in the head and the other got turned into pulled pork on the laundry roo
m floor. I’m not worried about myself, but is it advisable to ask Ms. Torris to get so close to danger? Catching a card counter is one thing, but don’t put a woman’s life on the line.”

  “Wait a minute!” She snatched his phone. “Roy, I’m ready to work. Where do you need me?”

  “Theater A showroom, costuming department.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze riveted on him. Clearly, she was pissed. The phone was thrust back against his palm like a branding iron. “Don’t speak for me. I’ve been a PHD and solving crimes in this hotel longer than you have.”

  Humbled, he lowered his voice. “It wasn’t meant as an insult. I just don’t want to see you hurt. Inviting homicidal maniacs to come to our hotel room might not be a good idea.”

  “You’re not exactly treating me like an equal and I have two years seniority over you.” She turned and walked away. “Thank you, but I can take care of myself.”

  “Hold on Roy. I’ll call back in a minute.” He clicked the phone off and hurried to catch up to her. “Where are you going?”

  “Where do you think? Theater A. I’m going to do as Roy said and check in with costuming.”

  “Really?” he huffed. She walked so fast her ponytail swung like a pendulum. “You’re just going to do what Roy tells you to do, no questions asked?”

  “Yep.” She lifted her chin, eyes wide. “I’ve been doing this for a while. I don’t argue with Roy, I listen.”

  Even after all they’d been through today, he didn’t see a smidge of fear on her face. Was she incredibly foolhardy or brave? He couldn’t tell. “That’s lovely and very loyal of you, but you do realize we’ve been asked to attract the attention of a brutal person or persons who don’t show up on camera and can rip a man’s heart out, then vanish. It’s not ideal. A PHD should help solve a crime; they shouldn’t provoke one or set themselves up to become the next victim.”

  A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nobody’s victim. So let it go.”

  They were walking into a blind alley. His intuition screamed, Stop! “Roy’s not telling us everything, I just know it.”

  “It’s possible.” Her voice was bland. “And if he is holding back, I’m sure there’s a good reason behind it.”