“Will she be in today?” I asked lamely. I’d never even been interested in watching male strippers, let alone women. Not my style.
“Oh, maybe. Umm, I think she may be sick,” the girl said, clearly not sure and doing her best to hide concern. “Try calling tonight.”
“Okay, thank you.” I hung up, then chose Calvin in my contacts. “Before you get all Bad Cop, sexy alpha on me,” I said just as Calvin said hello, “just know that this shit follows me. I did not seek it out…. Not really, anyway.”
“What are you talking about?” Calvin asked.
I glanced down at Meredith. “I found another murder.”
I’M THEfirst person to understand that murder isn’t great for business.
So the fact that, before I knew it, museum security had ushered patrons out, suspicious old me had been forbidden to leave, and the director had escorted Calvin and Quinn across the massive room, more or less imploring the NYPD to make it quick and get the hell out, was not any surprise to me.
No one wants a dead exotic dancer to outshine the newest dinosaur exhibit.
Bad for donations, I imagine.
Calvin stopped several feet away from me, put a hand on his hip, and ushered me over with one snap of his wrist.
I stepped away from the nearby display I had been planted at while waiting. “I only found her,” I said, reaching his side.
Calvin set both hands on his hips. “What did I tell you?” he whispered. “I told you to go to your father’s. This is not there. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I got another note after leaving the precinct,” I whispered back, rather loudly. “It had this address, so I decided to come. It’s a public place—what was going to happen to me?”
“The same thing that happened to this woman,” Calvin said.
“Well, it didn’t,” I answered stupidly, crossing my arms. “I’m fine.”
Calvin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sebastian, how did you not learn the first time? How many different ways do I have to tell you how suspicious you look in these situations?”
“Oh, please,” I hissed. “She’s been dead at least twelve hours. I’ve got alibis for days.”
“And if you keep popping up every time a dead person does, sooner or later you will be seen as a convenient suspect.”
“I don’t even know these people. I have no motive,” I argued.
Calvin raised a finger to silence me. “Motive isn’t important. One person’s reason to kill may not be understood, but it was sound enough for them in the moment.”
I groaned and dropped my head down. “For fuck’s sake, Calvin. Fine.My bad, okay?”
“My bad?” he echoed, voice deep and very much not amused.
“Not the time or the place, gentlemen,” Quinn finally said. “Calvin caught me up on all this shit,” she continued, looking up at me. “What was this new note?”
I reached into my pocket and removed the paper. “I stopped on my street to see—everything. Someone threw a brick at me. And no, I didn’t see who.”
Quinn took the paper, and Calvin read it over her shoulder.
“With this address and the mention of the whale, I thought it must have been talking about that guy.” I motioned above us. “But obviously I got here and there was nothing. I almost left until I remembered this display here. It’s a sperm whale.”
“Yes, fascinating,” Quinn remarked.
“Sort of. Squids and sperm whales are—”
“Focus, Seb,” Calvin muttered.
I huffed and turned to point at the display. “So I came over here and found a newspaper clipping.” I held it up next. “It’s an original, I think. It’s one of P.T. Barnum’s ads for his Feejee Mermaid.”
