Page 14

Chapter Fourteen

The rest of the afternoon ticked by, and Delia realized she still hadn’t come to any decision as to whether she should let Robert Hendricks know that she’d found the demon who’d been winning so much of the casinos’ cash.

Well, part demon, anyway.

From what she’d been able to tell, Caleb possessed a lot of demon powers but otherwise was just as regular flesh and blood as she was. What she was supposed to think about that, she wasn’t sure.

But her one-thirty appointment stretched into two hours as she showed the couple — who were around her age — house after house, driving through the rain only to learn this place was too small, or this one didn’t have an open enough floorplan, or that one didn’t have a yard big enough to put in a pool.

By the time they were done…still without having made a decision, or course…Delia had been all too ready to hide in her office and catch up on some paperwork. But even though she kept herself busy, her brain continued to poke at her, making her go over that conversation with Caleb just one more time as she tried to determine who she owed more loyalty to — the part demon who was going to give her a big, fat commission once the deal on the Pueblo Street house closed, or the man who’d hired her to see if demonic activity was behind the casinos’ recent losses.

Technically, Robert had hired her first. However, they didn’t have any kind of formal agreement — at least, not one backed up with a written contract — whereas Caleb was her official client, with the paperwork to prove it.

Jesus Christ, what a mess.

She’d halfway expected to hear from Robert sometime that day, but it seemed as if he was content to let her do her work for a while before he felt it necessary to check in.

Thank God for that. She needed as much time as possible to think.

The drive home wasn’t much fun, thanks to the rain — and a traffic accident that had choked the intersection at McLeod and Vegas Valley Drive. By the time she got there, the wreckage had been moved off to the side…it looked as if a white Mazda SUV and a big Ford F-250 had gotten into a wrestling contest, with the Mazda losing…but there were still lots of cop cars and officers standing around, more than she would have expected from a simple fender-bender.

Well, not her circus, not her monkeys.

By the time she got home, her nerves were a jangled mess, so she poured herself a stemless glass of cab and then stuck her head in the refrigerator, trying to figure out what she should have to eat that night. Nothing looked all that appealing, although she supposed she could put something together with the leftover rotisserie chicken she’d gotten at the grocery store over the weekend, maybe with some pasta to make it feel a little more filling.

So, dinner was settled, but she still hadn’t decided what to do about Robert Hendricks.

What if she told him she’d detected something but hadn’t been able to get any real details on what it was or where it had gone after it left the casino? That might be better than not saying anything at all, although she didn’t much like the idea of having to lie to him.

And Caleb was her client in every legal sense of the word, meaning there was a good argument for keeping her mouth shut.

Damn it.

There didn’t seem to be an easy solution to the problem…except the most obvious one.

She could call Robert, tell him she hadn’t been able to find anything helpful, and offer to return the money. Yes, giving up ten grand wasn’t the most appealing scenario in the world, but at least if she gave the deposit back to him, they wouldn’t have a business relationship anymore, and she wouldn’t feel obligated to tell him anything.

Besides, she was going to receive more than four times that amount when the deal on the Pueblo Street house closed. It wasn’t as if walking away from her agreement with Robert Hendricks was going to stress her financially. She hadn’t been expecting that money, so she wouldn’t miss it when it was gone.

Yes, backing away from the whole thing definitely seemed to be the best solution.

Still, she wished she could call Prudence and talk over the situation with her, but although Pru was on board with all the ghost stuff, Delia had a feeling her friend might have a few issues when it came to demons.

Even ones who had only a quarter demonic blood.

Also, while Caleb hadn’t sworn her to secrecy, she knew she would never betray his confidence by blabbing his secrets to her best friend unless he explicitly told her it was okay.

She had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen. For whatever reason, he’d decided to trust her, but she doubted he’d be all right with her circle of friends knowing her latest client had a little more under the hood than most people might have expected.

By that point, it was around five-thirty. Delia supposed it would have been okay to call Robert now, since, while it wasn’t strictly business hours, the time wasn’t so late that doing so would have been rude.

However, because she was a chickenshit, she decided to wait until morning.

“It’s only been a couple of days,” came Robert Hendricks’ startled voice through the phone’s speaker. “I hope you didn’t get the impression that I was expecting results right away.”

“Oh, no,” Delia replied at once. Again following the chickenshit principle, she’d told herself it would be better to call him after she got to the office and could reach out well after nine o’clock that morning. “That’s not why I think it’s better not to pursue this anymore. I visited several casinos over the weekend, but I never sensed anything that felt like the presence of a demon…or even a ghost.”

Well, except the imp-thing that Caleb had told her attacked him in the Bellagio’s parking structure. But, strictly speaking, she hadn’t known what it was when she sensed the smoky residue on the third level of the garage, only that something weird had gone down there.

“I still don’t think you should give up,” Robert said. “We had some big winners over the weekend, but nothing that stood out as anything out of the ordinary. It’s entirely possible that our demon stayed home…wherever that is.”

Delia knew that wasn’t true because Caleb had mentioned going to the casino on Saturday. Maybe he’d dialed down the winning to avoid arousing suspicion.

“I suppose so,” she replied, knowing how dubious she sounded. “But even if that’s the case, there’s no way to know for sure whether I’d even be able to help you. Like I told you when we first met, I’ve only dealt with ghosts, and I don’t know if I’d recognize a demon’s energy on the off chance that I did somehow manage to bump into one.”

That part wasn’t even a lie. When she’d first met Caleb, she hadn’t detected anything out of the ordinary about him…except maybe to admit to herself that he was the best-looking man she’d seen in a long, long time.

True, when he’d grabbed her arm to prevent her from getting pushed into the pool, she’d felt that odd tingle, but she’d only chalked the sensation up to a rush of adrenaline. She hadn’t sensed anything strange when they shook hands the first time they’d met, back at her office.

“There’s no one else in Las Vegas who can do what you do,” Robert Hendricks pressed, and she had to smile.

“There are plenty of psychics and mediums in this town.”

“Ninety percent of whom are fakes,” he countered. “You’re the real deal, though. That’s why I came to you in the first place.”

“And I appreciate the vote of confidence,” she said. “But I don’t think I’m going to come up with anything useful.”

She almost added that she’d just taken on a new client with a challenging project and didn’t think she’d have any room in her schedule for demon hunting. However, Robert spoke first, forestalling any comments on that topic.

“I still think you only need more time,” he told her. “And I’m willing to be patient.”

“What if your demon swoops in and wins a million bucks at Caesar’s Palace or something?”

“Then possibly we’ll have to revisit our agreement,” Robert said without missing a beat. “In the meantime, do what you can. If the situation at the casinos remains as low-level as it was over the weekend, then things aren’t as urgent as you seem to believe they are.”

It sounded as if whatever argument she wanted to present, he’d just find a different rationale to counter it. And if he really wanted to let things run their course for a while to see what happened, then she supposed she’d have to go with his preferences for now. The ten grand was just sitting in her savings account, earning an extremely modest amount of interest, so it wasn’t as if she’d have to worry about what might happen if she spent some of it and then decided to back out of their deal after all.

“Okay,” she said, a little annoyed with herself for capitulating, even though she guessed there wasn’t any way to get rid of the guy without being downright rude. “How about we give it another week? I really think at that point if I haven’t found anything, then it’s just not there…or at least, I’m not able to sense it.”

“That would be fine,” Robert replied. “I can see why you wouldn’t want this hanging over you indefinitely, but another week will give you a chance to visit more casinos and figure out if you simply weren’t looking in the right place.”

Delia knew there was a lot more to the situation than that, but she didn’t argue. Let Robert Hendricks think she was diligently inspecting every casino within a half-mile radius of the Strip. She planned to let the time slip by, and then at the end of that additional week, she’d go back to him and say she was sorry, but she still hadn’t found anything, and here’s a cashier’s check for the ten grand.

No harm, no foul.

Maybe she’d even go to a couple of casinos, just to have it seem as if she was making some effort. That was probably the last thing she felt like doing on a weeknight when all she wanted to do was go straight home and feed her fish, but in case the personnel in the casinos were on the lookout for a woman with long red hair wandering around the premises while she carried out some kind of secret mission, it just felt better to cover her bases.

“It’s a plan,” she said. “I’ll call you next Monday to let you know how things went.”

“Or sooner, if you find something.”

Delia knew that wasn’t going to happen, but she made a sound of agreement anyway. “Of course. You have a good day, Robert.”

“You too, Delia.”

They ended the call there, and she set the phone down on her desk. Good to have gotten that over with, even though she wished she’d had the spine to tell Mr. Hendricks that no, she hadn’t gotten a single ping, so it was time to call the whole thing off.

Almost as soon as it hit the desktop, her phone rang again. She glanced down at the screen, wondering what she would do if it was Robert calling back to request that she extend their agreement for an additional week.

Lie again, she supposed.

But it wasn’t Robert Hendricks. No, the number on the screen was Paige Loomis’s.

“The title search is done,” she said crisply when Delia picked up the phone. “My client wanted to know if Mr. Lowe is available this afternoon to sign off on the final paperwork and to bring the cashier’s check or arrange a wire transfer.”

Wow, that was faster than she’d expected. Yes, the house had been purchased by the current owner only three years ago, so she supposed any problems with the title would have been ironed out then, but still, she hadn’t thought they’d make any real progress on the transaction until closer to the end of the week.

“Let me give Caleb a call and get back to you,” Delia said. She didn’t have any reason to think he wouldn’t be available, but she wasn’t about to make any promises when she had no idea what his schedule today looked like.

“Of course,” Paige replied. “I’ll be waiting.”

No doubt about that. January generally wasn’t a busy time in the real estate industry, so the other agent was probably salivating at the thought of getting a nice, juicy payout when she hadn’t been expecting one.

Delia said goodbye and ended the call, then touched the screen again so she could go to her contacts list and reach out to Caleb. With any luck, he’d be at home and not back at the casinos…or grocery shopping or golfing or whatever it was he did with his spare time.

To be fair, she couldn’t really imagine Caleb Lockwood on a golf course. Tennis…maybe.

But he picked up on the second ring, so it didn’t seem as if he’d been too busy, whatever it was he’d been doing before she called.

“That was fast,” he said, an echo of her own words from just a bit earlier.

“It was,” she agreed, glad she sounded so normal. Although she’d known she would have to interact with him again at some point, she honestly hadn’t thought it would be the very next day after he’d made all those revelations. “But it sounds as if everything went smoothly, so the seller would like to get this wrapped up.”

“Not a problem,” Caleb responded at once. “I just need some time to go by the bank. Does ten-thirty work for me to come by the office?”

“That should be fine,” Delia said, fairly certain that Paige would have kept the rest of her morning open so they could finish their business. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

He ended the call there, so Delia sent a quick text to Paige letting her know to come to the office at ten-thirty.

Now it was just a waiting game. Not too long a wait, just about forty-five minutes, but Delia still knew it was probably going to feel interminable.

She used it up as best she could, fielding a couple of calls from prospective buyers, checking the new listings that had popped up on the MLS overnight. Her mother handled the majority of that sort of thing because it seemed as if sometimes she could sniff out a property before it even hit the database, but still, it never hurt to be familiar with the inventory.

Especially since Delia still hadn’t found anything that would work with her one picky couple, who wanted the moon but wouldn’t budge from their top range of around $350K.

Well, after they’d been looking for several months and still hadn’t found anything they both liked, they might finally realize that either their expectations or their budget needed an adjustment.

At around 10:25, Caleb stuck his head in her office door. As usual, he wore jeans and boots and that same black leather jacket, although today the T-shirt underneath was a dark maroon color.

“I’m a little early,” he said.

“That’s all right,” Delia told him, and made herself smile. Although it was still strange to look at him and know some part of his genetic makeup wasn’t even human, she knew she had to act as normal as possible — especially with Paige Loomis and her client due to arrive at any moment. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

He came into the office and sat down in the lefthand chair facing her desk. “You’re doing a good job,” he said, and Delia raised an eyebrow.

“A good job of what?”

“Pretending I’m a normal guy.”

Before she could respond, Paige and her client appeared, and Delia uttered a silent thank-you to the universe for allowing her to dodge that particular comment.

She really hadn’t wanted to get into it with Caleb Lockwood. No, all she wanted to do was get the paperwork signed and the money handed over to the buyer, and then she could get on with her life.

Except she wouldn’t be done with Caleb, not by a long shot…not when she’d already agreed to provide what advice she could about getting the reno back up and running.

“Hello, Paige, Mr. Mackie,” she said. “Mr. Mackie, why don’t you take a seat next to Caleb? There’s a lot of paperwork to be signed.”

Which Paige handed over, setting it on the desk in front of her client. “And the check?”

“Right here,” Caleb said, then pulled an envelope out of the breast pocket of his leather jacket and set it down on the desktop. “Plus the additional ones for both your fees.”

In a regular transaction involving a mortgage, that money would have come out of the disbursement from the mortgage company. Because this was a cash transaction, though, he’d had to keep those funds separate.

Paige looked over his shoulder as though to confirm that the amounts were correct, then nodded. “Everything looks in order. Tim, it’s fine to go ahead and sign.”

And even though they didn’t have to sign a bunch of loan paperwork, there were still plenty of forms to sign — disclosures and amendments and all the other minutiae involved in any kind of property transaction.

Eventually, though, both Caleb and Tim Mackie had placed their signatures or initials on all the necessary papers.

Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys before handing them over to Caleb.

“Here you go,” he said. “Hope you have better luck with the place than I did.”

“I’m sure it’ll go smoothly,” Caleb responded as he sent Delia a significant glance.

Of course it would — the spirit of the serial killer had been banished and all his victims had been removed from the basement, so there was no reason to think they’d encounter any more supernatural activity at the property.

Unless Caleb brought it with him, she supposed.

They exchanged congratulations, and then Paige and her client left, no doubt to have an early celebratory lunch.

Caleb slipped the house keys into his pocket as Delia placed the cashier’s check for her agent fee in her purse. At some point, she’d need to go to the bank to deposit the thing; carrying around that much money, even if it wasn’t cash, made her nervous.

“Do you have a client lined up after this?” he asked, something in his manner almost diffident.

She halfway wanted to lie and say she did, if only to give her a little breathing space while she tried to sort out her thoughts on the subject of Caleb Lockwood.

That wouldn’t have been professional, though. She’d signed up to work with him, and had to hope that as the days and weeks wore on, she’d get so used to knowing he was part demon that it wouldn’t even register with her anymore.

“No,” she said, and forced another smile. “Let me guess — you want to go over to the property.”

“I do,” he replied, something about his expression telling her that he was amused by her obvious awkwardness. “I want to see if all that rain yesterday caused any problems.”

It might have, considering the roof was one of the first projects that needed to be tackled at the Pueblo Street house. Now that he owned the place free and clear, Delia could see why he’d want to go straight over and make sure the weather hadn’t caused another ten grand or so in damage.

“Then let’s take a look,” she said.

To Caleb’s obvious relief, the roof didn’t appear to have leaked at all. It still needed to be replaced, of course, but at least now they were assured it would hold until the new one could be installed.

They went back to the living room, where Delia pulled her phone out of her purse. “I’ve got the names of some G.C.s you can contact,” she said. “They may already be working on other projects, but I guess I’m hoping at least one of them will be available. Even if you don’t have the contractor nailed down, we can start putting together some mood boards and samples of the materials you want to use, since we can hit the ground running that way. And — ”

“Delia,” Caleb cut in, but almost gently. However, a belying twitch at the corner of his mouth seemed to signal that he knew she’d been talking so fast because she didn’t know what else to do with herself.

“Was I that obvious?”

The twitch turned into a full-blown grin. “Kind of. I suppose I get it. You’ve never met anyone like me before, and your brain is still trying to wrap itself around what working with a part demon even means.” He paused there before adding, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. That demon blood doesn’t matter as much as you think it does.”

Delia planted her hands on her hips. “Well, except for the part where it allows you to teleport and banish souls to Hell and influence the roll of a die or the flip of a card. Am I missing anything?”

“Oh, maybe a couple of minor details.” He glanced away from her so he could look past the sliding glass doors into the yard, which wasn’t the waterlogged mess she’d feared it might be. Even when they got that much rain, the thirsty ground usually drank it down in a matter of hours. “But none of that is a big deal. Hell, I barely made enough at the gaming tables this weekend to pay for the kitchen remodel.”

Which was still probably at least fifty or sixty grand. She found herself smiling despite everything. The way he earned his money now was very different from the career he’d probably once envisioned for himself, but Pru’s poking around had provided enough details to show that the Lockwoods had lots of money, and his casual attitude toward it told Delia that he probably had no idea what it was like to exist without a nice, fat cash cushion to protect him from some of life’s harsh realities.

To be fair, she really didn’t know what that was like, either. Her mother had been a successful real estate agent for going on thirty-five years, and her father had worked as a civil engineer for the city of Las Vegas for almost as long. They weren’t super-rich, but they were definitely comfortable.

“Oh, is that all?” she responded with a grin that matched his.

She was a little surprised to see his smile fade. “I suppose I just wasn’t feeling it.”

They hadn’t known each other long enough for her to be able to accurately read Caleb’s emotions, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened, something that seemed to have rattled his composure, if only a little.

He certainly wasn’t coming across as cocky as he usually did.

“Anyway,” he went on. “I can start looking at some materials, sure.” He paused there, and now he looked a little more chipper, the familiar glint returning to his dark eyes. “Any chance you’d want to go slab shopping with me?”

Damn, he’d just found her hidden weakness. While she enjoyed looking at cabinet designs and roaming through tile and flooring showrooms, what she loved most was going to the warehouses where they kept all those huge, gorgeous pieces of stone, whether granite or marble or quartz, or more exotic materials like soapstone and Dolomite.

“Um, maybe,” she hedged, and he flashed her another grin.

“You know you want to,” he said. “And I’ll buy you lunch as an extra inducement.”

“You don’t have to do that — ” she began, but Caleb only shook his head.

“I don’t have to, I want to,” he cut in. “Besides, the house is mine now, and I feel like we should celebrate.”

When he put it that way….

“All right,” she said. “Slabs first, lunch afterward.”

“I like a woman who has her priorities in order,” Caleb responded, and although she knew he was mostly joking, she wasn’t quite sure what to do when his gaze met hers and held there for a second or two.

That look told her he would be just fine if their relationship became a little something more than merely professional.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Life was complicated enough without throwing hook-ups with a demon in the mix.

“Let’s go,” she said.