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As I passed Grady's bedroom, I heard my name and stopped.
"You aren't listening to me, woman!" Grady hissed, loud enough for his voice to reverberate down the hall. "I was possessed."
"Yes, yes, I know, but they really want us to stick to these ridiculous celebrity seances, so, perhaps for a while, if you could choose to be possessed only by people fitting their criteria--"
"You think I chose to have this happen? This--this power--this evil thing, it stole my body. I was powerless, unable to see, hear, speak, trapped in some limbo." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I need to speak to Jaime. While that thing had hold of me yesterday, I had some...sense of her. I think she might understand what happened."
The creak of a chair. "So that's what this is about? You don't need to pull this possession nonsense, Bradford. If you want to take the woman out for drinks and a quick shag in some tawdry hotel, be my guest. I've never stopped you before, have I?"
"I'm telling you I was possessed--"
"Oh, I know what you're possessed by. Get it out of your system so we can get back to business."
"This is business, woman. Something happened out there and I believe Jaime Vegas holds the key. I've told you she has the gift. Her performance with Tansy Lane--"
"--was a remarkable performance. Props to her for it, and for finding that memo, giving her the advantage of knowing in advance who she was about to contact that night."
"Becky never said Jaime found--"
"The poor girl is terrified of losing her job, so she doesn't dare do more than hint. If Todd Simon found out that she'd left that memo on Tansy Lane in the kitchen--"
"I don't believe it."
"No? Well, I've done my research, because that's what you pay me for, Bradford, and Todd Simon is a cutthroat--"
"I meant about Jaime. She didn't need to warn me about Amityville--Becky certainly wasn't going to. If Jaime Vegas is as conniving as Becky would have us believe, then why not let me fall on my face..."
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. One last glance at Grady's door before I hurried down to my own.
I'd been played by Becky. We'd all been played by her, but that was no excuse. I consider myself a good judge of character--showbiz character, at least. But I'd fallen for the nervous young director routine. Conned. But not for long.
I TURNED off the bedside light, laid down and called Jeremy. He answered on the second ring.
"Checking in as requested," I said. "Safe and snug in bed. How's the hunt going?"
"Badly. I followed his trail to his car. Then presumably he drove off."
"Which makes tracking impossible. Was he alone when he left?"
"Yes. He seems to have persuaded the others to go on without him. No sign of the police being called for the break-in."
"Can't take the chance of them finding the blood-flecked dungeon downstairs."
"No doubt. I'm parked behind his house, but he hasn't returned. While I hope he simply stopped to grab a late-night snack, I think he's done exactly what I feared he'd do."
"Run to his contact to try to get in touch with the group."
"Which would be perfect if I were still following him." A soft sigh. "I'll wait another hour or so, in case he returns."
"If he does, will you talk to him?"
"Only if it can be done safely. Otherwise, I'll regroup and try again tomorrow."
I laid my head on the pillow. "Thanks. For looking out for me tonight. I know you're used to having a partner who can take more of the risks."
"All of the risks, you mean. If I'd been there with Clay or Elena--or anyone from the Pack--I'd have been the one sitting above the hatch and being escorted past the rats. I'm the Alpha, remember? I'm not allowed to have fun."
"Fun?"
