“Well, what is Mr. Scarapelli going to do about it?” She referred to Grim more formally, as he was her boss. He lured her away from a neighboring hotel to be head of security, and she was damned good at it.
“Nothing.” I chewed on my straw, a habit that used to get me smacked around when I was a kid.
She arched an eyebrow. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” I affirmed.
“Isn’t he”—she lowered her voice—”the god of death?”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean we can go around cracking heads until we get answers. Or at least that’s what he tells me.”
She leaned back in her chair, frustration radiating off her. “There must be something we can do.”
“This is what I like about you Miranda, you are a woman of action like me. We don’t just sit on our laurels. Who is Laurel anyway? What lazy-ass kind of life did she lead that inspired someone to coin that phrase?”
“The kind of life that likely led to the invention of delivery food,” Miranda offered.
“Well, I can’t knock that,” I said, cheers-ing her with my cup.
That was the other reason I loved her. We rode a similar bizarro brainwave most of the time.
Miranda rhythmically tapped the table and furrowed her brows. “So if this guy was worshiping a god, doesn’t he need an altar or something?”
“All he needs to do is pray to the god using the original god’s name. Their ancient Egyptian one.”
She blew a raspberry. “There are tons of people who worship Egyptian gods and goddesses.”
“Some, yes, but not a ton. Not like it used to be in the ancient days. And gods can’t solicit for alms. I’m sure Mary Jane in witchy Salem took it upon herself to pray to my boyfriend, but she’s a drop in the bucket of power for him. Seth did a big no-no by taking those followers under his wing. As you saw, he also reached back and bestowed his worshippers with powers.”
“Yes,” Miranda said in a flat tone, “I vaguely recall how they turned into massive snake monsters and tried to eat us.”
I shook my cup at her. “We sure do know how to party hard.”
Miranda ignored my cheeky comment. A line formed between her eyes as she dove into deep thought. “Maybe he is following the god on social media. Since all of them run the hotels on the Strip, and you know they love the attention.”
I sighed dramatically, flopping my head back. “I already checked. He follows a lot of them. Too many to narrow down. He was definitely a high-roller groupie.”
Still, she didn’t let it go. “What about his house? Maybe there’s a clue about who his favorite was?”
I raised a finger, about to protest. It curled back down when I realized I didn’t have a counterpoint. “Well, that’s just a damned good idea. But don’t you think the cops have swept through his house and cleared evidence?”
Her fingers ceased tapping her brows dipping further. “It’s a suicide. They don’t need to investigate. If there are tiny statuettes or pictures of Egyptian gods, no one is going to look twice.”
“Except for us…” I finished, in awe of her genius. “I’m in awe of your genius.”
“That’s fair.” She shrugged, taking another sip of her coffee with a sly smile.
The sun was up now, but I knew the first thing I was doing as soon as I could set foot outside. It was date night with Grim, but this wouldn’t take me long.
The memory of how irritated he’d been the last time I’d been late sprung to mind. He’d tried to squash down his ire, but I couldn’t escape the lecture.
Simply because we have all the time in the world as immortals, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t treat it with respect.
I wasn’t being disrespectful. I just had shit to do and got delayed. Not everyone lived by a perfect schedule.
A familiar figure caught the corner of my eye. “Well, this is unusual,” I announced.
Miranda followed my gaze to see Timothy walking toward the Perkatory line.
