Polterheist(40)

"What?" He listened to his caller. "Say that again . . . Jesus. This will be a three-ring circus. Yeah, you bet I do. Where is he? Okay, I'm on my way."

He ended the call and stood up, helping me rise from the bench as he put his phone way. "I'm sorry, I've got to go. Right now."

"Okay." Thinking of Max and Lucky, I asked warily, "What's happened?"

"There's been another hijacking. About an hour ago."

"Oh!" No wonder he had to go.

"And this time, someone shot the driver."

"What?" I exclaimed. "Is he alive?"

"He is." Lopez added with relish, "And he's identified the shooter."
                       
       
           



       
16





Back at Fenster's, I wanted to find Lucky and Max to tell them the news right away. Lopez wouldn't say anything to me about the identity of the shooter, who was still at large, though he told me it would probably be all over the news once the gunman was apprehended. So this was the break in the case that Lucky had been hoping for.

Depending on who the shooter was and what could be learned once the news broke, this might also assist with our mystical problem at Fenster's, if our poltergeist was indeed connected to a nefarious scheme to commit polterheists. (Well, I thought it was clever.)

The cops were done searching the locker room and all gone by the time I got back there-which was to be expected, I thought, when I saw the time. I'd been gone longer than I'd realized. Time really flies when you're lip-locked with a man about whom you've fantasized far too much.

I took off my coat, donned the elf ears-and-cap which I had shoved into my pocket earlier this evening, and checked my reflection in the mirror. I looked disheveled and excited . . . and my ears were a little smooshed and bent. Oops. Oh, well. They only needed to last for two more days.

With less than an hour left before closing, I decided not even to bother touching up my makeup, and I left the locker room as I was. I realized that after I got out onto the floor, I probably wouldn't be able to leave it again until closing time. So, just in case Max and Lucky had gotten tired of searching for me (or had gotten hungry and thirsty), I popped quickly into the break room to see if they were there.

"Oh, hi!" I said, startled. "Um, sorry," I added, realizing I had interrupted something. Followed by, "Uh, is everything all right?"

I was looking at Rick and Elspeth. This late into the shift, no one else was in the break room-everyone who wasn't on the floor now had clocked out-and they were alone together in here.

And this wasn't just happenstance, I realized; they were clearly together. But not in a good way, it seemed.

Rick was holding Elspeth by the shoulders, and he looked furious with her. I saw the way his fingers were digging into her flesh when I walked in on them, and I thought she'd have bruises tomorrow. Elspeth looked . . . oh, pretty much the same as always. Sulky, sullen, angry, snide, slouching. And . . . triumphant, I realized with surprise.

Maybe she was glad she had made Rick angry-which, for someone like Elspeth, probably counted as an achievement. Or maybe she had the upper hand in their argument, whatever it was.

"Hi, Esther." Rick took a breath and released Elspeth.

"Hi." I noticed that Elspeth didn't move away from him. He must have been hurting her a moment ago, or perhaps trying to intimidate her, but she didn't seem to be upset with him. Mostly, I thought, she just seemed annoyed that I had intruded on their scene. After an awkward pause, I asked, "What's up?"

Rallying, Rick said casually, "Miles couldn't find you before he left for the night, so we all thought you went home and forgot to clock out or something."

"Oh, I had sort of an unexpected detour this evening after Karaoke Bear malfunctioned," I said vaguely. "I'll talk to Miles tomorrow and explain." Actually, Miles would do most of the talking, and since I didn't really expect to get paid for kissing Lopez, I'd go along with having my pay docked for the time I'd been missing.

"The singing bear malfunctioned?" Rick said alertly. "What happened?"

He and Elspeth exchanged a glance. She looked smug. Rick's face-unusually, for him-was unreadable.

"Yes, what happened?" Elspeth asked me.

I hadn't realized these two were more than scant acquaintances; but it was obvious from their body language and eye contact now that there was a relationship between them. The extent or the nature of the relationship wasn't at all clear to me, though.

"He short-circuited or something, I think," I said.

At Rick's prodding, I elaborated a little; but I didn't hint at what had really happened. Not with Elspeth in the room, watching me with those simultaneously hostile and avaricious eyes. There was actually something vampirish about this ardent Vampyre fan, I realized. This was the way she had looked at me when asking me what it had been like to be embraced by actor Daemon Ravel, and also when later asking me how I'd felt upon thinking I might die. It was as if, lacking access to her own emotions, she fed off of other people's.

"That's all there is to tell about the bear," I lied with a casual shrug. "Short circuit. Smoke. Pop! Keel over. Dead."

"Dead?" Elspeth repeated-exactly the way I might involuntarily repeat Lopez's name if someone said it right now out of the blue.

Well, no, not exactly the way. I had never been and sincerely hoped I never would be that creepy. But it did make me think of the way a woman would respond to hearing her absent lover's name unexpectedly said aloud.

Stop right there. He's not your lover.

Well, not yet. But he said he wanted to see me naked.

God, how did he make such a bald statement sound so hot?

I thought again of his lips on mine, his breath brushing my cheek, his hands . . .

"Oh, calm down," I said aloud.

Seeing their startled expressions, I felt embarrassed. Until I realized they thought I meant that Elspeth should calm down.

Rick chuckled and gestured to the goth girl. "She gets a little excited by death." He tried to make it sound like a joke. He failed.

"And men get excited by genitals," she said with open disgust.

Well, she must be tremendous fun in bed.

Given Elspeth's consuming interest in Daemon Ravel aka Lord Ruthven, I assumed she was heterosexual, at least in theory. So I wondered if she was extremely disappointed in her sex life-with Rick? Or resentful of not getting sex from Rick? She'd certainly had a clumsy way of expressing her attraction to Lopez, followed promptly by being resentful when he didn't reciprocate.

Then I wondered if "excited by death" meant . . .

No, not going there, I decided firmly. These were not thoughts I had any interest in pursuing.

In any event, I would not have said that the sullen, emotionally stunted, poor little rich goth girl seemed to be Rick's type . . . But then, I hardly knew Rick. Maybe she was exactly his type. His clean-cut appearance and wholesome persona weren't necessarily evidence of his sexual tastes or emotional needs, after all. Maybe his intellectual passion for psychology translated into a personal passion for deeply troubled women . . .

Certainly he had seemed passionate when I'd entered the room. But not in a good way. I glanced at Elspeth, recalling that moment and wondering whether I should leave them alone together. But it was clear that she considered my presence an annoying intrusion. So I said that I needed to go finish the shift on the floor, and I left the room.

As the door closed behind me, I thought of Lopez's unfounded and probably unfair assessment of Rick as an opportunist. And it occurred to me that, especially for someone who had insight into the way people's minds worked, the rich, unhappy, and insecure Elspeth might be very easy to manipulate . . .

* * *

When I got to the throne room, I found Diversity Santa, Belsnickel, Sugarplum, and Vixen all waiting for me.

Jeff took advantage of the fact that things were slow this late in the shift to start berating me immediately. "Where have you been? I've been stranded here in holiday hell with Belsnickel the blind elf, his drooling reindeer, and the meanest Santa's helper who's ever lived! Do you have any idea how many people Sugarplum has frightened away this evening?"

"I thought you liked kids?" I said to Lucky.

"I do," said the Santa-bearded elf. "I just don't like their parents. What a buncha whiny schmucks."

"Where do you find these people?" Jeff said.

I still thought it best, as I had thought earlier today when asking for his help with makeup and wardrobe, not to tell Jeff where I had found Lucky.

"Diversity Santa's been a little cranky all evening," Lucky told me.

"Oh, he's been cranky for longer than that," I replied. "Don't take it personally."

Lucky made a dismissive gesture that indicated he hadn't let it bother him. In his line of work, after all, he had dealt with more much difficult personalities than an actor who was unhappy about the wasteland his career seemed to be stuck in.

Hoping this news would distract Jeff from his doldrums, I told the three men about tonight's hijacking, the shooting, and the possibility that the shooter would soon be identified.

"This is great news! I gotta go out to Forest Hills and tell the boss in person. The family's problems with Fenster's might be almost over!" Lucky added to Max, "Doc, Nelli's had a hard day. Do you want me to take her for a walk and drop her off at your place, since I'm heading out now?"