Page 62 of Speak of the Devil
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 veryown 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.
