Page 79 of Duty Unbound

“I’ll send it over in just a few.”

“No rush.” He smiled, backing out of the room. “Have a good night.”

The door swung closed behind him with a solid click. Iturned my attention to the box. Plain brown cardboard, sealed with clear packing tape. Nova’s name was written in block letters, as well as the hotel, but there was no return address.

I hesitated. Nova was still furious with me, holed up in her hotel room and refusing my calls. Did I really want to bother her with a package right now?

The responsible thing would be to leave it for morning. But what if it was something important? Tour materials, a gift from a sponsor, something she needed for tomorrow night’s show?

Better to check first. I could always rewrap it if necessary.

I pulled open a drawer, fishing for scissors, then carefully cut through the packing tape. Inside was a white Styrofoam cooler, the kind you’d use for picnics or keeping drinks cold.

That was odd.

I lifted the lid.

The smell hit me first—rank, putrid, like roadkill baking in the sun. My stomach lurched as my brain processed what I was seeing.

It smelled like roadkill because that’s what itwas.

Nova’s rainbow wig, its vibrant colors unmistakable, had been arranged on the bloated body of a dead raccoon. The animal’s glazed eyes stared up at me, mouth frozen in a snarl. Dark blood had matted in its fur, soaking into the wig’s synthetic strands.

I screamed, stumbling backward. The box tumbled to the floor, its contents spilling out. The raccoon flopped onto the carpet with a wet thud, the rainbow wig still attached to its head like some perverted parody.

Bile rose in my throat. I lunged for the door, twisting the handle frantically.

It wouldn’t budge.

“No, no, no,” I whispered, jerking the handle harder. The door remained firmly shut, as if locked from the outside.

I pounded my fist against the wood. “Hello? Is anyone out there? I need help!”

Nothing.

The stench from the dead animal grew stronger, filling the small room. I pressed my sleeve over my nose and mouth, fighting the urge to vomit.

I skirted around the grotesque display on the floor, to get back to the makeup counter where I’d set my phone, keeping as much distance as possible between myself and the dead raccoon.

My hands shook so badly I could barely unlock the screen. I pulled up my contacts and tapped Ethan’s name, praying he’d answer.

He picked up on the second ring. “Mel? Everything okay?”

My voice cracked as I tried to speak. “Ethan, please. Help me.”

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” His tone sharpened immediately.

“Nova’s dressing room,” I gasped, tears streaming down my face. “There’s a…raccoon…a raccoon. The door won’t open.”

“What? Honey, I can’t understand you. Slow down. Are you hurt?”

“No, raccoon. Raccoon.” It was the only word I could get out around my sobs.

“A what? Where are you?”

I took a breath. “Nova’s dressing room.”

“And what about a raccoon?”