When I blinked my eyes open, Vin was hovering overhead, slapping my cheeks with more force than necessary. I was disoriented and unsure of what was happening.
“You okay?” He slapped me.
My brain felt like the ball inside a pinball machine. “You can stop now.”
“Yeah, not a problem.”
Pulling me to my feet, he walked me to a chair and let me fall into the seat with a thump. Memories flooded back to me. Pushing at my skin, I tried to wipe the lines off. I threw my arm out and turned my head away. “Quick,” I said. “Maybe you can get it off at the joint. I’m too young to die.”
Olivia shushed me. “You really don’t know? I can’t believe it.” Her cool, smooth voice carried a note of surprise. She reached across and grabbed my hand. “You’re just fine. Relax.”
She beckoned Vin over. “Come on. You know what to do.”
He reared back a little. “I’m not getting wrapped up in this.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll take that responsibility.”
“Fine.” He took a knee and grabbed my other hand with rough fingers that were warm in my hand. A tingling sensation spread up my arm, and the lines on my arm vibrated. “None of that,” he growled at me. “It has been witnessed by one.”
Olivia squeezed my hand. “It has been witnessed by two.” She turned toward the open office door and shouted, “Auntie, can you come in here?”
The woman with the dark curls ducked her head in the room. “It really isn’t professional for you to call—Oh my! How exciting.”
She raced across the room. Placing a hand on my back, she cleared her throat. “It has been witnessed by three.”
Warmth spread through me, and the lines appeared to lighten. Vin dropped my hand, but the intense heat of his touch continued on my fingertips.
The older woman leaned over the back of the couch and planted a huge kiss on my cheek. “Call me Auntie Ann, my dear. I am so excited for you. I’ll get everything arranged.” She reached over and scratched Patagonia behind the ear before bustling back out the door.
Patagonia purred loudly and came to my side. Hopping into my lap, she circled then dug her claws into my thighs. After kneading my skin like well-risen dough, she finally curled up and closed her eyes.
“Thank you, Auntie.” Olivia pressed her second hand over mine and stared into my eyes. She searched for something that only she knew, and after a few seconds that dragged out into eternity, she dropped my hand and turned to Vin. “You can get out of here before you explode.”
Vin pushed off the ground in one smooth move and left without a look back.
The whole interaction had been beyond bizarre. I flipped my hand over, and though the wound still tingled, the lines on my arm were only barely visible. Maybe they hadn’t been as bad as I thought? I blinked hard, and phantom lines danced behind my eyelids. I shook my head. When I came into the office, I had been concerned about getting fired, and my brain was struggling to keep up with the new situation.
“What just happened? What did you—”
Olivia held up one delicate, perfectly manicured hand. “Before I explain that, would you like to know why we thought your father had only a son?”
I fought between the two ideas. Though what had just happened was completely baffling and upsetting, there was no doubt which topic was more important to me. “You know, this is not the first time that has happened. When I first moved to Rambler, I had a few people say something similar, but no one accused me of lying.”
“Did Vin say you were lying?”
I nodded and pursed my lips in frustration.
“I apologize for him. He’s my cousin. Auntie Ann’s son, in fact. I’m trying to civilize him for corporate work, but he’s stubborn. But he had a reason to assume you were lying. Your father was quite insistent that he had only had one child, a son that lived in New York with his mother.”
I stared at her in shock. I had been, and still was, I suppose, a daddy’s girl. Though I had gone to boarding school, we talked consistently, and he took me on grand vacations during every school break. When I graduated college and got a job in Vegas, he had visited anytime I was free. There was no way he had a son, so why had he lied? “You knew my father?”
She nodded and closely watched my face. “Yes, he worked with my father from time to time. Quiet man and kind but very… I suppose intimidating is the right word. Do you know what he did for a living?”
That definitely sounded like my father. “Uh, he never brought work home with him or thought to discuss it during vacation. I know he did freelance work for casinos. He said he helped fix problems.”
Her eyes widened for a split second, and she chuckled a little in her reply. “Yes, I guess that is a good description. He fixed things.” Something in her response showed that she thought the term was funny. “In a way, you followed in his footsteps. You are helping us find and hopefully fix a problem. Speaking of which…”
She got up and removed a small pile of items and a piece of paper from the top of her desk. She passed the paper to me before sitting down. A large cat with spots followed her and hopped into her lap.
“You have a cat as well? I’ve always wondered where people get them. I’ve never seen them for sale or adoption.”
She gave me a small, tight smile. “Of course you haven’t. I should have known something exciting was going to happen when Patagonia first came to the office. Can you give that piece of paper a once-over?”
I scanned the paper, a photocopy of a note scribbled onto a small notepad with the Golden Pyramid casino name and logo at the top. In two columns were lists of numbers. The column on the left was one- or two-digit numbers with a slash between them, and on the right were four- or five-digit numbers. The two lists didn’t perfectly match. Some numbers on the left had a blank to the right, or vice-versa.
“Ella.”
I looked up at her from the paper. “Yes?”
“Can you tell me what you think these numbers mean? They were found on my father’s desk after his… passing.” She flinched a little as she stumbled on the last word.
My heart ached for her and me. We had both lost our fathers, and she was clearly still struggling. A cloud of sadness passed behind her eyes, and I looked away as she dabbed a tissue to them.
I gave the paper another quick look before replying. “With the work I do, I wouldn’t guess. I would start by—”
“No, no, I want your gut feelings. Just humor me, please.”
“As long as you realize this is just a guess. I would never say anything for sure unless I could prove it in the numbers.” I looked over the numbers again, but I already knew what my gut was saying. “Right off the bat, the best option is that the column on the left is dates and the right is amounts of money. They don’t perfectly match up, so I would say that someone has a specific event or expenditure in mind and they are trying to figure out when something happened and how much it cost. There are exact amounts, so either they had receipts with no dates, or…” Something tickled the back of my mind, an option that wasn’t fully formed.
“Close your eyes and relax.” I must have hesitated, because her tone was firm when she continued. “You are working for me. Please listen when I ask you to do something.”
I closed my eyes. People don’t understand what I do. I follow the facts, though that didn’t fully cover what I did. Sometimes the numbers reflected human nature. Repeated purchases reflect our habits. A sudden increase or decrease in a particular category could reflect a life change. I had caught many coworkers in an affair when there was a sudden increase in work-lunch-reimbursement requests. Or embezzlement schemes when every department under one person had a consistent but tiny increase in costs each month.
I opened my eyes and looked at the list. What was this list telling me? Without knowing what category the money was pulled from, it could be anything. There was no pattern to the numbers. Except…
“Not all these numbers instantly make sense, but
there is one interesting pattern that I can see right off the bat.” I went down the list. “There is a payment of fifty thousand dollars every month on this list on the ides.”
“The ides?”
“Yes, like the ides of March, which is March fifteenth. It is a common misconception that the ides means the fifteenth, but it actually means the middle of the month in the Roman calendar, so it falls on the fifteenth of March, May, July, or October, and the thirteenth of the rest of the months. See.” I passed her the list.
She ran a hand down the list. “So the fifteenth of March, May…”
“July and October,” I offered.
She nodded. “That makes sense. I did notice the payments, and they happened monthly around the time, but I didn’t understand why it jumped between the fifteenth and thirteenth.”
I nodded. “It is one of those funny little facts that stuck in my head. The same way that I remember that the lady who jumped from your casino did it on May fifteenth. Poor woman. That was so sad.”
Olivia looked at the list again. “Yes, you’re right. In fact…” She muttered to herself and ran a finger down the list. Her eyes darted back to me. “You’re very good.”
She passed me back the paper. “Please keep thinking on it a bit more. I have something else for you.” She handed me a cool white stone the size of my palm and shaped like an egg. “Look at this. Can you see the colors in it?”
I tucked the paper into my bag then turned my attention to the stone. It was a milky white and super smooth. I flipped it over in my hand, and a creamy glow rose from the stone. It was like the shimmer of moonlight in a thick fog. I flipped it, and it grew stronger. “Is this an opal?”
“Moonstone. Can you see the adularescence? The glow or inner light?”
“Yes, it’s really pretty.” I extended it to her.
She shook her head. “No, hold on to it. I mean that literally. I want you to hold it as much as you can tonight. Do you give your word?”
“Um…” I looked at the gigantic stone then back at her.
“Consider it part of the job.” She got up from her seat, the cat leaping to the ground.
“Okay, then yes, I give my word.” I squinted and shook my head as my ears started ringing slightly. I worked my jaw, and the sound receded. What a weird day.
“Excuse me a second.” She glided out a door on the right side of the room. I hadn’t noticed the door initially as it fit perfectly into the wall.
A meow to my left drew my attention to Patagonia, who was pressed into my side and had worked her way under my hand. While yowling in a pleading tone, she pressed her head into the palm of my hand and twisted it back and forth so my nails grazed the fur on the sides. I dutifully scratched behind her ears, digging my nails through her thick fur. She rolled around under my hand to get scratches behind both ears and neck. I didn’t trust her after that bite, though she seemed safe now.
I flexed my hand and inspected the wound, or at least where the wound had been. I pulled my hand in close to my face, but where I would expect two large scabs on each side were instead tiny holes that didn’t even appear to be open. Patagonia must have needle-thin teeth. I flexed the hand, and though it felt a tiny bit stiff and tingly, it didn’t hurt. The skin on my arm was clear. I really needed to ask Olivia what the deal was with all the witnessing stuff and the faint lines. The whole thing had been beyond strange.
I sat up straight. She had not only evaded my questions about the cat bite, faint lines, and all that witnessing business, but then she had distracted me from questions about my father only having a son. Somehow I had ended up looking at a list of numbers and made a promise to hold a rock. Hardly a fair trade. I wanted to know about my father and the cat. And Vin.
I shook my head. I didn’t mean Vin. I meant the… I stood up abruptly, and Patagonia meowed her displeasure and caught her claws on my pants. I carefully unhooked her paw and went to the wall Olivia had exited through, but I couldn’t find a latch or handle. The edges of the door sat flush against the wall. I headed to the entrance I had entered through, but Patagonia weaved through my feet, tripping me. I fumbled for a few steps then carefully hooked a foot under her belly and gently moved her to my side.
Stepping out the door, I turned to Auntie Ann’s desk, but instead of her there was a younger twentysomething with dark hair. “Hello, Miss Gabriella Ramono. How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Olivia or Ann.”
“Hi, I’m Vin’s sister, Vanessa. Olivia and Mom left.”
Patagonia weaved between my feet, her lithe, solid body vibrating with a purr. “Left?”
“Yes, but they put you on the schedule for tomorrow, and I have everything you need tonight.” She picked up a phone, and her voice rose slightly as she spoke. “Can you send up security to help Miss Gabriella to her car?”
“Security!” I said as Patagonia yowled and stood on her back legs to dig her claws into my thigh.
“Security is just to help you get to your car safely and help carry your things.” She smiled fondly at Patagonia. Then, startled, she slapped at the knee of her pants where little curls of smoke drifted off the fabric.
Patagonia easily reached my hip without even needing to extend. She seemed bigger than before. Was her coat darker? I adjusted the messenger bag on my shoulder. “I don’t need any help. I have just the one bag. I still have a job, right? I should come back tomorrow.”
The girl pursed her lips to make a kissy noise while grabbing some nylon straps off her desk. “Come here, Pat the cat. Here, sweetie.” Patagonia danced over to her, and she started to put a harness on the cat. “Of course you still have a job. Here.” She stood and handed me a leash attached to Patagonia.
Two large men in suits entered, and she gestured to the pile of bags stacked behind the desk.
“Wait, I don’t understand. What is all that stuff, and why…?” I lifted the leash in my hand.
“You can’t walk Patagonia outside without a leash. It’s far too dangerous.”
“Outside?” I looked at Patagonia. She looked back then rubbed her head into my knee.
“Of course. How else will you take her home? Don’t worry. Everything you need is in the bags, and of course you will bring her to work with you tomorrow. I’m just so excited that she’s finally been paired!”
CHAPTER FOUR
After filling my car to the brim with cat supplies and wrestling Patagonia into the front seat, I headed home.
“Don’t you dare claw up my car. These seats are real leather.” I pulled out onto the Avenue to drive past the glittery casinos before turning down a side road toward a more industrial part of town. It wasn’t more than a few minutes off the Avenue, but tourists stayed away, which was smart.
I had expected Patagonia to yowl and hate the car, but instead she meowed with interest and pressed both paws against the window to watch the scenery as we raced by.
The first time I had driven to my dad’s building after the lawyer called to tell me of it, I was convinced I would sell it immediately. But once I saw the beautiful loft Dad had called home, I had reconsidered. Then I found out that the tenants, who had been friends of my father, worked on the bottom two floors. Their rent more than covered expenses and left a tidy monthly profit. And despite the industrial area, there was virtually no crime within a two-block neighborhood.
Or at least there were no reported crimes. The bottom floor was an auto salvage company that I suspected dealt with cars obtained through both traditional and more nefarious ways. The security company on the second floor wouldn’t tell me all the services they provided, but they were armed to the teeth to do it. Despite that, everyone from the owner to the unpaid interns had been respectful and the owners paid on time.
Patagonia pawed at my shoulder and meowed.
“We’re almost home.” How I had ended up the owner of a cat was still a mystery to me. Vanessa had been sweet but quite insistent on the arrangement. She had also assured me that Patagonia would never
bite me again. In fact, she had found it hilarious that I asked.
I pulled up to the driveway ramp that wrapped up and around the building, allowing me to park my car on the third floor in a garage attached to the loft. I honked as I passed the large rolled-up door of the salvage business, giving a quick wave, and again as I drove by the security firm. It was way past normal businesses’ closing time, but it seemed both of them operated at unusual hours.
I pressed the button on the garage and parked inside before closing the door. Patagonia became more agitated, jumping from the front seat to the back and slapping me across the face with her tail.
I opened the back door of the car, where Patagonia leapt free to start exploring the garage.
Fearful she would lick up something she shouldn’t off the ground, I opened the door to the loft. “Come inside. I guess you’re home.”
Patagonia raced past me to explore. Floor-to-vaulted-ceiling windows looked back toward the Avenue. They had some special coating so that you couldn’t look in from outside. The open-air design with midcentury modern furniture reminded me of my father. He had liked clean design and everything in its place, but I had had no idea that he had such a nice home of black leather, chrome, and glass.
He must have spent a fortune buying the building because despite the immense size of the loft, it was easy to keep warm in winter and cool in summer. The walls must have been insulated, or there was a passive ventilation system that I didn’t know about.
I pulled out the handwritten notes from Vanessa with directions for the cat. I set out a litter box in the front bathroom and a bowl of food and water in the kitchen.
“Patagonia,” I called out before going back into my garage to get the last bag of cat toys and a large cat bed. As I slammed the trunk, a white glint caught my eye in the passenger seat. The moonstone egg must have fallen out of my purse. I had promised to hold it, so I juggled the load and opened the passenger door.
Without any pockets on my slim business suit, I wedged the egg into my cleavage. My super padded add-two-cup-sizes bra guaranteed that egg wasn’t going anywhere. I had thought the stone would be cool, but instead it was warm to the touch.
Of Murders and Mages Page 2