“Bribery?” Elliot looked dismayed by the question. “What do I look like, a drug lord?”
He’d been waiting in the lobby of the hotel when Jack and Marin arrived, and eager for an update. He’d been shaken by the discovery of Lila’s body on his property and his subsequent questioning by the police, and had barely made it up to their room before he started to hyperventilate. It had taken several minutes before Jack had been able to bring up autopsy reports.
“No, seriously, you don’t think I’m involved with anything illegal down here, do you?” Elliot looked suspiciously short of breath.
“No, definitely not,” Marin said as she hustled to the minibar. “Drink?”
Nodding, Elliot sat down on the edge of Marin’s bed.
Jack knew the bribery angle had been a long shot—but a guy could hope. Once Elliot was sipping on a sugary soda, Jack asked, “How about local contacts who might be able to get their hands on the reports?”
“I don’t really see who… Wait, maybe a journalist?” Elliot pulled his phone out. After scrolling through his contacts for a few seconds, he said, “Yeah. Here it is. I wasn’t sure I’d still have it. We only went out a few times.” Looking up at Jack, he said, “You want me to call her? She’s a food and travel blogger, but she hangs out with a bunch of writers. She might know someone.”
“How long ago were you going out?” Jack asked. The guy was supposed to be so in love with his girlfriend that he’d moved heaven and earth—or at least paid a ton of money—to get specialists to find her…and he was dating other women?
Elliot shrugged. “Two, three months, maybe? Then I met Lila.”
That’s right. Their client was spending a small fortune to first find and now discover the killer of a woman he’d known less than three months. Easy to forget when observing his behavior. If he didn’t know Elliot, he’d suspect that he was involved with her death and trying to stay ahead of the cops. But Jack did know him, and Elliot really was that nice of a guy.
Jack thought of the cash. Then he thought of the liver left so conspicuously in Iris’s pantry. A niggling thought emerged from the depths of his brain. “Yeah, call her. See what she can do. Marin?” He motioned for her to follow him into the other bedroom.
Once they were in the other room and Jack could hear Elliot speaking to his blogger contact, he said, “What if that liver wasn’t left in Iris’s pantry, but in a place where you and I were likely to stumble on it?”
“No. The car was parked a short walk away.” Marin glanced around the room. “Our hotel room wouldn’t be that difficult to break into. I don’t think so. Why do you say that? Especially given the fact Iris has been channeling Grandma Abi for at least as long as the murders have been going on, and Grandma Abi has information on the killer. She seems the natural target.”
“Possibly. But why wait until we’re there, inside the shop, to place it? You know it had to be placed while we were there, given the freshness of the blood.”
Marin groaned. “Damn. And it’s probably not Lila’s liver, given the timeline. She’d have already been dead. That liver was from a fresh victim.” She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she said, “The liver was in front of a jar of dragon’s blood.”
“What?”
Marin shook her head. “It’s not actual blood, just a resin. A red, plant-based resin. It’s used mostly in skin care these days. It’s not that odd that an herbalist would have some on hand, and I’m sure it’s Abi who’s stocking that pantry. There were a variety of herbs used for minor medical problems.”
“So? What? From the probably random placement of the liver, you’re concluding that this creature knows there’s a dragon hanging around?”
“I don’t know. It struck me at the time, and I didn’t mention it. I’m sure you’re right; it’s nothing.”
“And the timing?” Jack asked, peering into the other room to make sure Elliot was still occupied on the phone. “I do think the timing of the liver’s delivery is significant.”
“Agreed. Why then, with all three of us in the shop? It had to be more difficult to get inside, place the liver, and then escape quietly with the three of us present.” Marin gave Jack a steely look. “I’d have noticed at the time, but I was distracted by a distraught witness and a flaky partner.”
“It’s my fault, huh?”
Elliot joined them in the room. His eyes were bloodshot and a little puffy. “I forgot that she knew Lila. She wants to help, so she’s going to ask around and see what she can find. What’s next?”
“What do you think: his house or the hotel?” Jack asked Marin.
“Oh, the hotel. More people, less secluded.” Marin turned her attention to Elliot. “Unless you have a security team at your home that you can guarantee has no connection to the killer.”
Elliot eyed Marin with some confusion. “I don’t have a security team at all.”
“Decision made,” Jack said. “You’re staying at the hotel.”
“I don’t think I want to do that.”
“Okay,” Jack replied in a pleasant but not overly friendly tone. He called it his customer service voice. “We can make arrangements for you to return to Austin. There’s a crew I trust there, and I’m sure you’ll be pleased with their services.”
“Whoa. I’m not leaving the country. This is my home now. Besides, how is a hotel any safer than my house?”
Jack tried not to let his irritation show. If their client got killed, they weren’t getting paid. Not a pleasant prospect. And Elliot was a decent sort, and not particularly deserving of losing his heart and liver. “All of the houses in your neighborhood are secluded. All of that expensive privacy also makes them easy targets.”
“He has a point,” Marin said. “About the hotel, I mean. I have another idea. Elliot, have you ever heard of Sanctuary?”
“The private hostel a few blocks from here?”
Jack bit his tongue. They hadn’t touched base with the hostel’s owner since they’d landed, so he couldn’t guarantee their old acquaintance would help.
“That’s the one,” Marin said with a smile. “You’re not too good for a youth hostel, are you, Elliot?”
“No, not at all. That’s not what I meant. I just… Uh, why the hostel?”
“We know the place,” Marin said. “It’s about as safe you can get from things that go bump in the night.”
“But it’s a hostel.” Elliot seemed to be having some difficulty reconciling a place with a nonstop flow of backpackers with a place he’d be safe from a heart-stealing thug.
“It’s a special hostel.” Marin glanced around the room wistfully.
Jack knew what she was thinking, and she was right. “Looks like we’re moving. Say goodbye to the minibar, Marin.”
“I can live without the minibar. What’s criminal is giving up that gorgeous view and sinfully deep tub.”
Elliot’s gaze flipped back and forth between them. “So we’re all going to the hostel?”
Jack pulled out his cell and scrolled through the saved numbers. “Look at it this way: you’ll save on expenses.” And then he tapped “call.”
“Mr. Kaisermann, how are you doing?” Jack turned away as Marin and Elliot huddled together in quiet conversation.
“I’ve been expecting you.” Kaisermann’s voice sounded younger than Jack remembered. “You’re in the country.”
“I am. And in need of a little help. Last we talked, you and your…” Jack grasped for an innocuous term for an ancient house-possessing spirit, but words failed him.
“Sally.” Kaisermann’s voice was tinged with a touch of amusement. “Simpler that way. Sally and I have been enjoying semi-retirement—at least, we were until about two, three weeks ago. I thought about calling, but I got a strong sense from Sally that I was to wait for you to come in your own time.” His voice turned darker. “Sally and I have a different relationship with time.”
Jack hesitated to think how many people had died since “Sally” had detected a disturbance in the force—or whatever it was that tipped her off to the Big Bad in the area. But he could hardly question the ancient creature’s decision, since even Kaisermann could barely communicate with her. “Last time we talked, you mentioned opening Sanctuary. We’re in a bind with our client, because we don’t have backup in the country. Can you give him safe haven?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got two private rooms with a shared bath that you can have. When will you be coming? I’d like to discuss some of my recent dreams.”
“Ah, got it.” Since Sally reached out to Kaisermann in his dreams, it was likely there was a message embedded in those dreams. “And yes, Marin and I will be staying, too. We’ll see you shortly. And Mr. Kaisermann—stay safe.”
After Jack pocketed his phone, he rejoined Marin and Elliot. “Good thing we didn’t unpack.”
“So he’s got room?” Marin asked.
“Yeah, for all of us. And some information.” He grabbed Marin’s bag off the bed and handed it to her then picked up his own. “Let’s go.”
“I need to pick up clothes and toiletries at my house,” Elliot said, trailing behind them as they walked out into the hallway.
“Let’s check in with Kaisermann first, then we can either run by your house or pick up a few things in town.” Jack stumbled as he started down the front staircase.
This time, he was in Marin’s sight, and faster than a blink, she had her arm around him. “Are you okay?”
It was the same as before, a moment of vertigo that was almost immediately gone. “Yeah, sure.” And he was. He made it down the stairs without a hitch, but he could hardly be instilling confidence in their client.
Jack glanced at Elliot, but nothing in the man’s face gave away any indication that he was concerned. In fact, he looked curiously blank—maybe from shock?
Marin approached the front desk and said, “I’ll go ahead and check us out.” A small wrinkle appeared between her eyes as her gaze landed on Elliot. “Elliot?”
He turned to her with a blandly inquisitive look. “Yes?”
“No, nothing. Sorry.” But when he turned his back, she mouthed to Jack, “Follow him.”
Elliot was walking to the exit as if she’d never spoken. When he’d replied to Marin, it had felt like no one was home. The man’s eyes were still bloodshot, but the achy sadness was completely gone. His expression had been worse than blank; it had been bland. But shock didn’t feel right.
“I got him.” Jack hurried toward the exit.
Jack stepped through the front door of the hotel and a sledgehammer smashed into his jaw.
Reeling back, he struggled not to fall over his own feet.
He blinked at the black spots crowding out his vision—then realized Elliot was the only one near him. The only one who could have decked him.
And he was coming at him again—all six feet, four inches of him.
Shit.