A Model Murder

by Claire Kane

  Legion.

  The sibilant whisper was as chilling as it was unwelcome, and already he could sense the demons being drawn to the room, even during the daylight. From the corner of his eye, he saw Geo swiftly shut the door and mutter a few words that sent shivers through him.

  “You know,” Geo said, as though he were remarking on the color of his shoes, “something always struck me as a little… off… about that Ling chick. Jack made a mistake hiring her, and he’ll regret it, even if I have to see to it myself. For now, whoever you are, enjoy the show. And my friends. ”

  The little man stepped into Victor’s field of view, but not enough to block the TV screen. Victor felt small, strangled, and hopeless. The television played mindlessly on, showing the inner light of one beautiful girl after another being carelessly extinguished by men who seemed to care nothing for them as anything but easy pleasure. Geo pulled a small plastic baggy from his back pocket; Victor didn’t have to read the man’s mind to know what the powdery white substance inside was.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Geo said. “This is for the girls. You don’t think they do that because they really like it, do you?” He chuckled darkly. “Jack likes to sell this place as a friendly modeling agency, but there are times when I have to… compensate for his lacking.”

  He leaned in close and looked Victor straight in the eyes. “It’s funny what making a deal with the devil can do. Like let you see careless angels who think they’re so sneaky just because they’re no longer physical. Oh, the drugs help, but between you and me, there are better ways to get high.”

  A woman on the TV moaned, and then cried out a name. Victor’s insides clenched; he knew that voice. There, on the screen, was none other than Jessica Simcox. Gone was the gorgeous, self-satisfied woman who had once captured his eye only to tear out his heart. Any bad feelings he’d harbored after the way she’d once mistreated him evaporated. He couldn’t hate her; not when he saw, heard, and felt what he somehow knew to be part of the final hours of her life. He trembled, and Geo smirked.

  “Seems like you might know more than one of our little dolls, hmm? Well, let’s take a little sashay down memory lane.” He fetched a remote and pressed a button twice; Victor saw a “repeat track” icon flash on the screen.

  Unable to turn away, Victor began weeping openly, vaguely aware of Geo bustling around the room, arranging things and muttering in a strange, guttural tongue. The hosts of Legion flitted through the wall, and what sounded like a jail cell door slamming closed echoed through Victor’s mind.

  Geo reappeared before him. “Didn’t they ever tell you why Heaven has such strict rules, little Mister Angel? It’s because it derives strength from goodness and structure. Well, in my world, that’s all relative. And now that you’re seeing the flip side of things, maybe you’ll want to think again about who you work for. After all, He didn’t stop any of this from happening,” and he gestured toward the screen.

  Victor heard him open the door and step into the hallway. “Oh,” he called back. “In case you think of following me, well, I’m too busy to be bothered by avenging angels today, so you just keep watching my little version of daytime television. Because, guess what? One day, it might be your cute little Miss Ling who ends up there. Toodles.” With that, he shut the door.

  Rage hammered through Victor, and his jaw clenched hard enough to bite through steel. “No!” Surging to his feet, Victor hurled himself toward the door, only to find himself unable to turn, as though he were swimming in tar. Pictures of Geo’s horrible deeds were everywhere.

  And at once, Legion was on him.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Wow,” Rebecca said for probably the hundredth time since she’d first seen Lacey’s Lincoln. “I love this car. I can’t believe I’m riding with Lacey Ling! That is so cool!”

  The adulation had worn Lacey's nerves thin within the first thirty seconds of the twenty-minute drive. Though she’d long since become accustomed to the status of being a minor local celebrity, the way this girl fawned over her had graduated from “merely annoying” to “if I weren’t so nice, I’d have shoved you out of my moving car by now.” Still, something deeper was bothering her. She hadn’t heard a peep out of Victor since he’d taken off; that wasn’t in line with his “faithful puppy” act, though, if she thought about it, he had been gone for the better part of a day when he’d been tracking Teddy down. Biting back her concern, she returned her thoughts to the girl rambling beside her. Lacey was kind, though, and took it in stride, trying not to panic as the redhead gave nothing but last-second driving directions.

  Her lack of familiarity with the Lawton Wood area demanded she pay close attention to the road; that did nothing to help her nerves. Though she suspected the place was probably lovely during daylight hours, it felt forbidding and constricted now, with hints of houses hiding behind trees and hedges, and tight streets winding through a never-ending maze of conifers. Lacey found she was having difficulty breathing.

  “Oh, oh!” Rebecca called suddenly. “Turn here. Here.”

  Lacey resisted the instinct to crank the wheel hard, knowing she’d probably wind up colliding with a tree if she turned so tightly. Instead, she slowed the car, and, noting she’d missed her turn, carefully reversed and made her way onto the choked side street, though she realized the road wasn’t actually any tighter than any other road in the area.

  “Okay,” Rebecca said, leaning forward in her seat and gesturing, “just follow this road around and we’ll park. It’s a bit of a walk after that. I’m glad you’ve got your coat.”

  Lacey turned a critical eye on her passenger. “Walk? Where are we going?”

  Rebecca swallowed, but feigned a smile. “You’ll see. It’ll be great. And totally what we need after today. Ugh. Can that Geo guy get any worse? His face is probably online under the definition of ‘creeper’.”

  Lacey blew out a breath. “Tell me about it.”

  Moments later, a parking lot next to what appeared to be some kind of Native American museum came into view. “Here we are,” the redhead said.

  Lacey parked, noting a handful of other vehicles of various makes and models. Given that the museum was clearly closed, she surmised the other vehicles probably belonged to whomever Rebecca intended to meet her. Parking, she emerged into the frosty evening and pulled her hood tight around her head. She grimaced; there was something even more chilling in the air than the usual December cold. Even the moonlight seemed strangely subdued, though when she looked at it, it wasn’t hidden behind any clouds. She wondered whether she should call Victor. No—she wasn’t about to go back on everything she’d said about being able to handle herself. And besides—she’d be with a group of college kids. Not four months ago, she’d literally chased down a murderer and come out okay in the end. Shuddering again, she told herself she’d be fine.

  The ginger hopped out of the car as well, and waved toward an opening in the fence edging the parking lot. “C’mon. I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone. They’ll be so jealous.” She hurried toward the fence, then stopped suddenly. “Oh—um, can I ask you a favor?”

  Lacey avoided rolling her eyes. “What’s that?”

  “Could you, you know, act like we’re BFFs?”

  Lacey officially felt used now. “Let’s go meet your friends,” she said flatly.

  The sorority girl had the decency to blush, and led them on into the woods.

  “Where are you going?” Lacey asked after a minute.

  “Just to our little hangout. It’s pretty cool.”

  Stepping over frosted brush and twigs, Lacey pushed some branches out of her way. Soon the glow of a campfire came into view. They headed straight for it. The distant sound of laughter mingling meshed into indiscernible words echoing in the night.

  They came to a circle of friends, two other girls and two guys. A ramshackle old home was nearby, the small porch’s overhang cracked and bowing. Lacey wasn’t too surprised a bunch of young twenty-somethings might find the l
ocation “cool.” Although she was still in her twenties, she’d passed this particular phase long ago, if she ever actually had one.

  “Hey, it’s Rebecca!” The girl Lacey knew was Emily sprang up from her seated position beside the large, crackling fire. She rushed over and nearly tackled her in the hug. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it. I was going to send the guys to look for you. And, oh—” She halted at the sight of Lacey. “You brought... barista girl?”

  That’s what she thinks of me as? Lacey asked herself, playing off the inadvertent insult.

  “Yes,” Rebecca replied evenly. “Don’t you recognize her?”

  Emily squinted, her eyes gleaming slightly in the firelight. Something in her gaze seemed off, and the pall of smoke that hung on the air was already threatening to make Lacey cough; she wondered what these kids had been up to.

  “Yeah,” Emily said finally. “It’s… our old barista. I guess that’s cool.” She staggered slightly as she crossed to her redheaded friend, and then, out of the corner of her mouth, testily muttered, “Rebecca, this is our secret place.” From the looks of it, Lacey got the impression the girl thought Lacey hadn’t been able to hear her. The reporter-turned-model brushed a hand through her hair and shot glances at the others, still sitting, who were whispering to each other.

  Rebecca shrugged and turned a knowing smile toward Lacey that seemed to say, “I guess we’ve got our own little secret, too.” Lacey forced a smile in return and tried to relax. She hadn’t known quite what to expect, but it hadn’t been barely-veiled hostility.

  “She’s cool, guys,” Rebecca said, trying to act casual. “She works with me at Trend. She models, too.”

  “She does?” Emily said as if truly surprised, and that rubbed Lacey the wrong way, but she bit her tongue as it didn’t really matter what they thought of her. But somewhere, oddly—must’ve been deep, deep within—she found she did care. Emily added, “Okay, um… let’s just relax.” She slipped something into her pocket that Lacey couldn’t quite see.

  For a long moment, the crackle of the fire was the only thing that broke the silence of the night. Emily mostly glared at her friend and stole quick, unpleasant glances at Lacey, but the guys couldn’t seem to take their eyes off her. Lacey hated when anyone did that, especially men. She stood her ground, resisting the urge to shift her weight. As long as she convinced herself she was in command, she could hold the initiative here. At last, one of the guys, a pale kid with long blond hair and black skinny jeans, piped up, “Hey. You’re that reporter chick.”

  Lacey shrugged like it didn’t matter. She had to act, play the part of being one with them now, if she wanted to win their trust and learn about this alleged prostitution business going down. “I’m doing the modeling thing now. I’m not into reporting. Kind of burnt out with that. So how’s it going?” she said, taking a seat on an empty log beside him. He sat up at once and edged closer to her. Lacey braced herself, waiting for him to decide it was time to make a move. Thankfully, he kept his hands to himself.

  “Okay,” Emily said. “Well, welcome.” She forced a smile again but was clearly wary.

  Rebecca, right away, sat beside Lacey, perking up again. Emily took her place next to a dark-haired guy wearing a hoodie and puffy winter vest. He seemed a little old for her, in his early thirties at least, and he gazed at Lacey too long for comfort. “Does Geo think she’s cool?” he asked Rebecca.

  The ginger nodded vigorously, and reached behind her, popping open a small cooler Lacey hadn’t seen until now. She drew out a couple of bottles and handed one to Lacey. “Ice cold. But then, what else would it be out here?” The blond guy laughed, but everyone else sat in strained silence.

  Lacey shook her head. “Someone’s got to drive us home tonight.”

  Rebecca paused in thought, then nodded. “Right. Yeah. Good thinking. Hey, everyone? Lacey’s our designated driver tonight.” The guys murmured something like approval, but Emily merely shifted on her log, burrowing into the older man as if trying to prove a point.

  At last, the dark-haired guy broke the renewed silence. “Emily. Pass the goods.”

  “You gonna share ‘em?” the blond guy asked, laughing at his failed attempt at humor.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Emily said, stealing a quick look at Lacey again. “Rebecca,” she said, “are you sure Geo’s good with her? I mean, you know…” She let her words hang in the air.

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Trust me on this one. She’s so cool it’s not even funny. You just need to get to know her a bit. She won’t tell anyone about this place.” She glanced at Lacey. “Right?”

  Lacey drew an “X” across her chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.”

  It was Emily’s turn to roll her eyes. “OMG,” she said, and Lacey had to contain a laugh that the girl had actually spelled it out. “That is so junior high.”

  And you’re not? Lacey retorted mentally.

  “Fine,” Emily said in a huff. “But none for her,” and she gestured at Lacey, then, in a sugary tone, said, “Can’t hurt the designated driver, can we? Besides, she can get her own from Geo.”

  Lacey wondered what had happened to Emily since the last time she’d seen her. The girl had been so nervous and shy that the person before her seemed to be someone else entirely, merely wearing an “Emily” mask. But when the brunette pulled a small pouch filled with white powder from her jacket, things started to click. She decided a little play acting was in order. “Hey—no fair. He never gave me any. Pass it over. I want to take it home.”

  Emily glowered at her, and even Rebecca seemed a little less enthralled. “I said pass some over,” Lacey repeated. “How do I know you didn’t talk him into giving you my share?”

  Emily clung tightly to the bag and turned her glare on her friend. “I thought you said Little Miss Espresso was cool. What’s going on?”

  Rebecca chuckled nervously. “She’s new. Newer than me. Maybe Geo just forgot to give her some? I mean, maybe he hasn’t, you know... set her up with… clients.”

  “Shhhh.” Emily came up off her log, fangs bared and claws out. “Shut up!”

  Rebecca scowled in return, and muttered, “Well, she’s going to get them sooner or later. Not my fault Geo’s not doing his job right.”

  “I said shut up.”

  The two friends stared each other down, neither giving any sign of relenting. Thick moments passed until the dark-haired guy cleared his throat loudly. “Gotta pee. Be right back.”

  The rest of the evening passed with less apprehension than it had begun with, especially as the beer flowed freely and the bag of powder made the rounds. The dark-haired guy pulled out a guitar and, with their inhibitions gone, the U of W students sang loudly and stupidly. The guys made off-color remarks about the girls, and the girls fired right back. Lacey, still in possession of herself, pretended to laugh along, even while she cringed inside, especially when the dark-haired guy and Emily decided to find out, at length, how one another’s tongues tasted. They retreated into the teetering shack to crude jibes from the blond guy, and Lacey was more than happy to let them go. When Rebecca and the blond guy began getting cozy themselves, Lacey nearly decided to walk, but aside from the fact that she still hoped for some useful information—which hardly seemed forthcoming—she worried that if she left now, she’d be at least partially responsible for four intoxicated college students on the road.

  I just hope no one pukes in my car, she thought sourly. So she stood and stretched, and paced around the fire while Rebecca nuzzled the guy.

  In the middle of their fun, the blond guy spoke up. “So, whatever happened to Shayla?”

  Lacey froze for a moment, then continued walking, eager to hear more, but concerned that showing obvious interest might deflect the conversation.

  “Well,” Rebecca began slowly, “she, uh, went home for Christmas break.”

  “That’s not what she told me,” the guy said. “I mean, she wasn’t going to leave u
ntil the twenty-third.”

  “Do we really have to talk about Shayla right now?”

  “Yeah.” He moved away from Rebecca just enough to look at her. “She kisses way better than you.”

  Rebecca gasped, and drilled a fist into his arm.

  “What?” he asked, laughing. “She totally does. I mean, it’s like she took classes for it and got an A.”

  Rebecca hit him again and pouted. “You are so stupid.”

  “Then prove to me you can earn an A-plus.”

  Before Rebecca could take him up, Lacey sat next to them. “So what did happen to Shayla? I never got to meet her.”

  Both her companions stopped and stared at her as if she’d appeared out of nowhere. Then the guy’s eyes widened, and he smiled to match it. “I bet you got an A-plus in that class.”

  Rebecca pouted again, but looked torn. She flicked her gaze at the blond guy, then back to Lacey again. “Okay, fine. I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but since you and I will probably get the chance now that we’re working for Trend, I guess it’s okay.

  “Geo sent her, and a bunch of other girls, on a Christmas cruise. That’s what he called it. She told me how he arranged for them to all meet at someone’s house, and then they were going to take a bus down to the port and get on the ship.”

  Lacey frowned. “Why not just go straight to the pier? It’s right there.”

  Rebecca huffed. “I don’t know. That’s just what she told me, alright? And I asked to go, and Shayla was all, like, ‘Nuh-uh. Trend models only.’ And I was like, ‘Well, fine. I don’t need your stupid cruise anyway.’ But she decided to rub it in by showing me the place they were going to meet, before the cruise. I totally shouldn’t have gone. That place was so nice.”

  Lacey perked up instantly. “Wait—you saw the place Shayla was supposed to go to meet up for the cruise?”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Duh. I just said that.”

  Peering hard, Lacey asked, “Do you think you could find it again?”