Chapters (46)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
There were two pictures conveniently labeled “Awesome Occult Ritual.” The first showed a bunch of guys standing around a young Cody, who was kneeling, drawing with chalk on the floor. The caption read “Cody shows us how it’s done.” The second was too dark to make out, but was obviously the ritual in progress, captioned “Cody leads the way.”
While I couldn’t make out details, there was enough to suggest Cody knew what he was doing. Had he seen it in a movie? Researched it for rush week? Or was it something more sinister?
A honk outside my motel room made me jump. I bookmarked the site, disconnected, and hurried to the door. I waved at Michael, motioning that I’d be just a couple of minutes. I was putting on lipstick when he rapped at the door.
“Come in.”
The door clicked. “No rush. I’m early—”
He stopped. I turned. He gawked, then blushed, clearing his throat and saying, “That’s a good color for you,” before looking away so fast you’d think I was naked.
It wasn’t even a very revealing dress. I don’t have a lot to reveal. My legs are my best feature so, yes, the skirt was short. Damned short, actually. Other than that, it was just your basic little black cocktail dress, only it wasn’t black—it was peacock blue, like my eyes. I know, bringing out your eye color is such a cliché, but if I have a second best feature, my eyes are it, and I always play to my strengths.
Obviously it worked for Michael, who continued to gaze around the room as if committing the wallpaper to memory.
“Research?” he said, pointing at my laptop. “Have you found—?” He cut himself short with a wry smile. “Sorry. Occupational hazard. Tonight isn’t about the case, and I won’t say another word about it.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Er, more of an intention. But a strong intention.”
I laughed, closed up my laptop, and tucked it under the mattress. Then we left.
eleven
eleven
For the first part of the drive, Michael struggled to make conversation, but without the case, we didn’t have anything to discuss, and he was playing up his determination to avoid that. I tried asking about Claire but he only gave short answers, clearly uncomfortable discussing his sister with a stranger. Finally, I asked about his job, and that got him talking. Yes, he did use it to veer toward the case a few times, checking to see if I’d nibble. I didn’t. No sense making this easy for him ... or risk losing out on a free meal.