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She glanced around the room. There certainly was hardly any place to hide. There was only the one room, taken up by the sofa and the coffee table, with two chairs just beyond the reach of the bed when it was opened. One chair was padded and covered with cloth, and the other one was a director’s chair that could be folded up to make more room. Then she had her bathroom with its shower, and a little kitchen that was more of an alcove.
There was, however, a large closet, and the door was closed. Her hand went automatically to her service weapon under her jacket, she pulled it out and took it into a two-handed grip.
“I don’t think you want to do that, pumpkin.”
Pro spun, her weapon extended in a shooter’s stance as she faced her father, who stepped out of the kitchenette with his empty hands raised in surrender.
“Max, for chrissakes!” Pro hissed and lowered her weapon. She put on the safety and jammed it back into her holster. “You need to turn yourself in.”
“I will, I will, but right now you need me!”
“Max, you escaped from a holding cell! That is a big deal! They put out an APB on you. I could lose my shield from just talking to you.”
“I can’t help you if I’m locked up, honey.”
“Don’t you dare call me ‘honey.’ My name is Pro—Pro Thompson.”
Max held up his hands defensively. “Okay, Pro. But don’t you want to know what I found out since I’ve been out?”
“No, I want you to sit in a chair while I call for backup.”
“Pro, you gotta listen to me. The killer is still out there, and I think other people could end up dead.”
“All the more reason you should be in a nice cell,” Pro said pointing a finger at her father. “To prove you are not the one who is committing these murders!”
“Word on the street is that the plans for Prism are still for sale out there. I even heard that there might be a prototype.”
“Do you know who might be any of the interested buyers or the next target?”
“I went to see Sam Lovell of Lovell Magic. He gave me the name of two other guys besides Shaut.”
Pro reached into her attaché and pulled out her detective notebook. “Give!”
“Adrian Novack, who goes by Adrianna Gray. She’s a female magician with a touring stage show. She’s been trying to rip off parts of my act for years.”
“Could she come up with the fifty grand that Shaut was talking about?”
“Hard to say. The other name I was given was Michael Mystique.”
“Isn’t he one of those guys in a comic book?”
Max sighed. “Don’t blame me. I didn’t give them their stage names.”
“Says Max Marvell!”
“Okay, point taken. They might have information that could help lead you to the killer.”
Pro finished writing and put down her notebook with an angry sigh. “Okay, I’m going to share something with you—I have no idea why!”
“What is it?”
She reached into her attaché and pulled out one of the coded emails, which she had not yet translated.
“What is this?” Max asked as she handed him a printout.
“Look at it. What does that look like to you?”
Max studied the paper for a moment. “That’s the Houdini code.”
