Page 18

Chapter Eighteen

Had she really invited Caleb Lockwood to stay the night?

Yes, she had. Temporary insanity, she supposed.

No, Delia knew it was more than that. Whatever her feelings about his demon blood, he definitely hadn’t deserved to get attacked like that. Good thing he’d held off his assailants long enough to make a getaway.

Not before he’d suffered some pretty nasty injuries, though. He seemed fine with the quickie first aid she’d provided, but she couldn’t help wondering if she should have insisted that he go to the closest urgent care and get himself patched up by a professional. Some of those gashes really looked like they needed stitches, not just a bunch of slapped-on Bandaids.

Unfortunately, she doubted he would have gone along with such a plan. After all, how would he have even explained away those wounds? An attack by someone’s pet tiger?

Siegfried and Roy had been out of the game for years.

Even though it sounded as though Caleb planned to go right to bed — which he should, after losing all that blood and drinking all that cognac — Delia knew she was way too keyed up to go to sleep. Although her days of staying out until all hours were long behind her, she still rarely went to bed before eleven, something that wasn’t too hard to manage when she hardly ever needed to be in the office before nine o’clock.

So instead of heading into her own bedroom, she went into her home office and shut the door. The hour was inching a little past ten, but she knew it wouldn’t be a problem to reach out to Prudence, not when her friend still maintained some habits from their girl band days and generally didn’t go to sleep until at least two or three in the morning.

They usually texted, but Delia went to her computer instead of using her phone, figuring that using the messaging app on her Mac would be easier than trying to handle all this on a cell phone. After opening the app, she went to the last conversation she and Prudence had exchanged, the one where they’d discussed maybe taking a girls’ trip to Cabo in May after most of the spring breakers were gone.

You up? I was hoping you could look into someone for me.

Pru’s answer came back right away, telling Delia that her friend had been camped on her computer, just as she’d expected.

I’m here. Who do you want me to check on?

This was something she probably should have done earlier, but at the time, she’d had no reason to distrust Robert Hendricks. After this latest attack on Caleb, however, she couldn’t stop the niggling thoughts rattling around in her mind, the ones that seemed to tell her the casino executive might be a bit more involved than merely as a concerned party who didn’t want his place of business ripped off.

A guy named Robert Hendricks. He’s the VP of operations at the Dunes. I suppose I wanted to know if there was anything about his bio that seemed weird, or if he has some business contacts that feel iffy to you.

On it. How long’re you going to be up?

Probably at least another hour.

Luckily, she didn’t have any early appointments tomorrow. In fact, she didn’t have much on her docket at all. Her mother had messaged her earlier, letting her know she was going to show a new listing in Summerlin and checking to see if she wanted to come along, but Delia had declined. She had enough on her plate right now, and she didn’t want to run even the slightest risk of encountering a new ghost, even though her mother hadn’t said anything about the house being haunted.

Funny how she didn’t feel the same way about Caleb’s place on Pueblo Street, considering how haunted it had been until he’d taken care of the problem.

Maybe it was just all the plans he was making for the property. She’d always loved home makeover shows, and it would be fun to watch the process as he turned the house into a modern mid-century showplace.

Especially since she’d only be there in an advisory capacity and wouldn’t have to deal with the more unpleasant aspects of a massive renovation like that one.

Pru’s reply interrupted her musings.

Okay. Let me check into it. I’ll try to have something within an hour. If not, you can always follow up in the morning.

Thanks so much!

You owe me a margarita.

I’ll buy you a whole pitcher.

Pru responded with a grinning emoji, but that appeared to be the end of the convo for now.

Probably the smart thing would have been to go into her bedroom and get ready — wash her face, brush her teeth — but Delia wasn’t sure she wanted to be wandering around the house with no makeup on when Caleb Lockwood might emerge from his room at any moment.

All right, not much chance of that when it seemed clear to her he’d been about to pass out on his feet, but still.

And he’d looked adorable in those sweats, despite the bandages on his throat. Much better than Bill ever had.

The thought of her ex-fiancé made her lips thin a bit, but she pushed the recollection aside as best she could. Bill was long out of her life, and if he hadn’t cared enough about his precious UNLV sweats to take them with him after he decided she wasn’t the one and dumped her, then at least they could do her unexpected guest some good.

What they’d do for clothes after tonight, she wasn’t sure. Would it be safe for them to go back to his house in the morning to fetch a few things, assuming they were well-armed with holy water? Or should they just say screw it and go shopping?

After all, she had the morning free, and she doubted the demons would have canceled his credit cards.

She realized then that she was thinking Caleb might be here for some time, rather than merely overnight as he recovered from the attack and regrouped, which was silly. They’d figure out a plan tomorrow, and then they could both carry on with their lives.

Assuming they were able to get to the bottom of this mess.

A glance over at her computer told her Prudence hadn’t gotten back to her yet. Of course not — it had only been a few minutes, and Pru had said it would be at least an hour, maybe more.

Delia went back over to her desk and sat down, thinking she could browse the MLS and see if anything new had popped up that looked interesting. While she didn’t have a lot of clients right now, she still had that annoying couple who wanted the moon…if it was under $350K…and she’d also told Caleb that she’d keep an eye out for any possible flips.

Even if she kind of doubted he was up for that sort of thing right now. The guy definitely had his hands full.

But browsing the listings was enough to keep her occupied for a while, meaning that she was still sitting there when Pru reappeared.

I’ve got a couple of things.

Like what?

From what I can tell, Robert Hendricks seems to be a normal guy. No red flags like I found with Caleb. Hendricks grew up in Thousand Oaks and got his MBA at Pepperdine. Moved to Las Vegas about fifteen years ago when he was offered his first position as a manager in the finance department at the Dunes and gradually moved his way up the ladder. Got the promotion to his current position four years ago. Married, son and daughter, both of whom are going to school in California — one at UCLA, one at Stanford.

Delia had to agree that all sounded pretty normal. A prosperous kind of normal, true, but she had to believe Robert Hendricks was probably pulling in north of seven figures as VP of operations at the casino.

Could it be that her instincts had been so terribly off on this one?

So…nothing that makes you think he could be involved in anything underhanded?

Although she couldn’t see her friend right then, Delia had to believe Pru let out a snort of derision at that question.

He works for a casino. I’m sure he’s done all sorts of stuff that could be considered marginal. But in terms of ghosts and the supernatural? Not so much.

Great. Delia had really been hoping that whatever impulse had driven Robert Hendricks to reach out to her for help had been born of some sort of back-channel connection to the demon world, but it didn’t sound that way. No, he was just a regular guy who had probably read an article about her or maybe had someone in his social circle comment how Las Vegas had its very own ghost whisperer, and when the strange pattern of winnings popped up, and he and some of the other casino brass started sharing their notes, he figured he’d give her services a try and see if anything came of it.

Even as she started typing, Delia knew her next question had just a whiff of desperation about it.

So, you didn’t find anything even the teensiest bit weird?

There was one thing.

What’s that?

A few months ago, Hendricks — and a lot of the other casinos — contracted with an outfit called The Styx Group. I looked into them, and on the surface, they seem like your typical security consulting company.

When Pru threw phrases like “on the surface” around, you knew there was a lot more to come.

They’re dirty?

More like impenetrable. Their website lists some of their clients, but I can’t see anything about who runs the company or even who some of their representatives are. If I were a hacker, maybe I could really dig into their files and get some decent information, but that’s not what I do.

No, it wasn’t. Pru was great about getting into databases that regular people without private detective licenses couldn’t access, but it wasn’t as if she could hack into the Pentagon or anything close to it.

But the slightly sinister name “The Styx Group” caused a lot of alarm bells to go off in Delia’s head. Maybe the company’s founder was a big fan of ’70s rock bands, but she had a feeling there was something else going on here.

Thanks, Pru. It’s still helpful. And if you find anything else, just let me know.

I will…and drop me a note when you’re ready to buy me that pitcher of margaritas.

Delia responded with a tongue-out emoji, and they ended the conversation there.

After she shut down her computer, she got up from her chair and went out into the hall. The door to Caleb’s room was shut, and she couldn’t hear anything from inside, not even a snore.

She told herself he would be fine. None of his injuries had been life-threatening, and what he needed more than anything else was a decent night’s sleep.

The same could have been said for her, so she headed into her bedroom and also made sure the door was firmly closed. Normally, she left it open, but considering she had a part demon sleeping just down the hallway from her, discretion seemed the better part of valor.

As to what they’d do when morning rolled around…well, she supposed she’d figure that out after she woke up.

Although Delia normally rolled out of bed and headed into the kitchen to make coffee first thing, today she thought it was probably a better idea to shower and put on some makeup first, just in case Caleb was already up and about.

Good thing she’d taken that precaution, because when she emerged from her bedroom, he was already sitting on the couch and drinking a cup of coffee, watching the morning news with the sound turned down so low, she hadn’t even realized it was on.

“Morning,” he said, his tone casual in the extreme. “I hope you don’t mind that I made coffee. I needed some after that cognac last night.”

“It’s fine,” she replied automatically…then paused and took a closer look at him. He wore a knit pullover, jeans, and sneakers — none of which she’d provided for him. “Please tell me you didn’t go home to get all that,” she added as she inclined her head toward his ensemble.

“This?” He looked down at himself and grinned. “Vegas is the city that never sleeps, right? I found a twenty-four-hour clothing store online when I checked my phone and teleported myself over there so I could grab a few things. The sweats were great last night, but I figured I needed some real clothes for today.”

Delia blinked. While she knew some shops stayed open ’round the clock — usually the boutiques inside the casinos, and probably some along Fremont Street — she’d never had any need to visit them and hadn’t realized you could outfit yourself pretty respectably at those stores.

“Well, I’m glad you got it figured out,” she managed, then went into the kitchen so she could pour herself a much-needed coffee. Although part of her had been a little annoyed that Caleb had made himself at home and fetched some for himself without waiting for her to come out of her room, she had to admit that it was nice to have her morning brew ready to go.

Once she’d filled a mug and added her ritual teaspoon of sugar and dollop of milk, she headed back to the living room and sat down on one of the chairs. Now that she was facing him, she could see that he looked much better this morning — his color was good, and he didn’t have any noticeable dark circles under his eyes.

And those horrid gashes across his throat had healed to a couple of pale red welts.

He must have noticed her staring, because he said, “Demon blood, remember? I heal fast.”

“Apparently,” she replied. “But that’s good to hear. I suppose now we need to focus on getting you back into your house.”

The familiar glint returned to his eyes, almost the same color as the coffee they were drinking. “What, you don’t want a permanent house guest?”

She decided it would be better not to dignify that comment with a response, and instead swallowed some more coffee.

He grinned. “Well, I figure your holy water can help with that. We’ll splash it everywhere, utter a few blessings, and the demons shouldn’t be able to come back.”

Since he’d already told her that holy water didn’t affect him, she wasn’t too surprised by his plan. Luckily, she had a lot on hand and could always get more, thanks to the way she’d made friends with a Presbyterian minister and his wife, finding them a killer deal on a house in their parish, a place they otherwise would never have been able to afford. Because of that professional relationship, all she had to do was make a phone call, and Father Bryce would have a new case of the stuff waiting for her.

“But,” Caleb went on, “I thought I should take you out to breakfast first.”

Delia wanted to protest that he didn’t need to take her out to eat. However, considering all she had in the house was some yogurt that should have been tossed a few days ago and a box of Kind bars, she guessed she should probably take him up on the offer.

“Deal,” she said. “And after that, we’ll go take a look at your house.”

They ate at a place practically around the corner from her neighborhood, a fun little bistro that had amazing omelets and frittatas and all sorts of breakfast pastries. Delia decided to skip the sweet stuff, just in case whatever they ended up facing at Caleb’s house might require a bit more effort than merely splashing holy water around. When fighting demons, she supposed, it was always a good idea to lay down a good base.

A second cup of coffee, too, although she generally only drank one in the morning so she wouldn’t get too jittery. Pru always laughed and called her a lightweight, but she’d never been able to down unending cups the way her friend could.

Delia drove, of course, because Caleb’s Range Rover presumably was still parked in the garage at his house. Neither of them said much, and she wondered if he was more wary about the upcoming confrontation than he wanted to admit.

After she parked in the driveway and he let them into the house, though, absolutely nothing happened. No onslaught of demons, no blood dripping from the wall, no pentacles chalked on the gleaming wood floors…absolutely nothing to show that he’d been attacked by unholy adversaries here the night before.

“Looks like they took off,” he remarked as he led her into the living room. “I don’t even see any blood anywhere, and I know I was bleeding all over the place.”

True, the house looked immaculate. “Demon housekeepers?” she quipped feebly, and one of his dark, level brows quirked.

“More like making sure they didn’t leave any evidence behind,” he said. “Demons don’t like anything that can be traced back to them.”

Apparently not. “Well, at least they’re gone.”

“For now,” Caleb said darkly. “Just because it looks as if nothing weird happened here, that doesn’t mean I’m still not going to splash the hell out of this place with that holy water.”

Which she’d brought along in the Trader Joe’s bag that hung from one arm. “Well, we’ve got plenty of that. Do you want to work together, or should one of us take the upstairs and one the downstairs?”

“I’ll do upstairs,” he said at once. “You can get the downstairs. Let me do this first, though.”

He reached into the TJ’s bag and pulled out one of the little plastic vials of holy water, then marched over to the fireplace and sprinkled it liberally all over the hearth, then bent down so he could dab it on the stone surround as well.

“It’s weird, though,” he remarked, and Delia sent him a quizzical look.

“Weirder than demons coming down your chimney?”

White teeth flashed at her. “Yeah, weirder than that. Gas fireplace, right? So how the hell did they get past the glass? It should have been smashed all over the place.”

She supposed she should have thought of that. There weren’t many wood-burning fireplaces left in Las Vegas, and, like most — well, aside from those who’d gone to electric models — his was a gas setup with a handsome set of faux logs inside the firebox. Those logs were protected by glass, just like her own fireplace at home.

If demons really had come down the chimney and attacked him, wouldn’t there be glass everywhere?

Maybe. She still didn’t have a very good handle on demonic powers, but she supposed they might have somehow managed to blink their way past that glassy barrier without leaving any trace of their passing.

“I have no idea,” she said. Some people might have thought the lack of any physical evidence left behind was a sure sign that Caleb had somehow set up all of this, but she didn’t think so. She’d seen the way he was bleeding the night before.

Those hadn’t been self-inflicted wounds.

“Anyway,” he said, now sounding much more cheerful, “they’ll probably think twice before they try coming in that way again. I’ll just go take care of the upstairs.”

A quick wave with the hand that held the bottle of holy water, and then he headed up the staircase. For a second or two, Delia wondered if he’d left her to do the lower level so she wouldn’t find anything incriminating upstairs — for all she knew, he had a massive collection of vintage porn or something — but then she told herself it wasn’t any of her business.

For now, she needed to focus on making sure the ground floor was safe from any further demon intrusions…and hope like hell that their countermeasures worked.