Ceremony in Death (In Death #5)(28)

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Eve sat, rested her booted feet on the priceless coffee table, crossed her ankles.

“I’ve got the gig at the Down and Dirty. I wouldn’t let Crack down after he bailed me.”

“Hmm.” Eve rolled her shoulders and began to relax. Mavis’s career as a performer — it was difficult to use the term singer when defining Mavis’s talents — was moving along. There had been some serious roadblocks, but they’d been overcome. “I didn’t figure you’d work there much longer. Not with a recording contract.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the thing. The contract. You know, after finding out Jess was using me — and you and Roarke — for his mind games, I didn’t figure the demo I’d cut with him would go anywhere.”

“It was good, Mavis; flashy, unique. That’s why it got picked up.”

“Is it?” She rose again, a tiny woman with wild hair. “I found out today that Roarke owns the recording company that offered the contract.” Gulping her drink, she paced away. “I know we go back a ways, Dallas, a long ways, and I appreciate you putting Roarke up to it, but I don’t feel right about it. I wanted to thank you.” She turned then, her silver eyes tragic and bleak. “And tell you that I’m going to turn it down.”

Eve pursed her lips. “Mavis, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Are you telling me that Roarke, the guy who lives here, is producing your disc?”

“It’s his company. Eclectic. It produces everything from classical to brain drain. It’s the company. Totally mag, which was why I was so wired up about the deal.”

Eclectic, Eve mused. The company. It sounded just like him. “I don’t know anything about it. I didn’t ask him to do anything, Mavis.”

She blinked, lowered slowly to the arm of a chair. “You didn’t? Solid?”

“I didn’t ask,” Eve repeated, “and he didn’t tell me.” Which was also just like him. “I’d have to say that if his company is offering you a contract, it’s because Roarke, or whoever he’s put in charge of that stuff, figures you’re worth it.”

Mavis took slow breaths. She’d worked herself up to the selfless sacrifice, unwilling to take advantage of friendship. Now she teetered. “Maybe he arranged it, like a favor.”

Eve cocked a brow. “Roarke’s business is business. I’d say he figures you’re going to make him richer. And if he did do it as a favor, which I doubt, then you’ll just have to prove to him that you’re worth it. Won’t you, Mavis?”

“Yeah.” She let out a long breath. “I’m going to kick ass, you wait and see.” Her smile beamed out. “Maybe you could come by the D and D tonight. I’ve got some new material, and Roarke could get another close-up of his latest investment.”

“Have to pass tonight. I’ve got work. I’ve got to check out The Athame.”

Mavis grimaced. “What the hell are you going there for? Nasty place.”

“You know it?”

“Only by rep, and the rep’s down below bad news.”

“Someone I’ve got to talk to there, connected with a case I’m working on.” She considered. There was no one she knew more likely to have a line on the unusual. “Know any witches, Mavis?”

“Yeah, sort of. A couple of servers down at the Blue Squirrel were into it. Brushed a few way back when I was on the grift.”

“You believe in that stuff? Chanting and spells and palm reading?”

Mavis cocked her head and looked thoughtful. “It’s major bullshit.”

“You never fail to surprise me,” Eve decided. “I figured you’d be into it.”

“I ran a con once. Spirit guide. I was Ariel, reincarnation of a fairy queen. You’d be amazed how many straights paid up for me to contact their dead relatives or tell them their future.”

To demonstrate, she let her head fall back. Her eyes fluttered, her mouth went slack. Slowly, her arms lifted, palms turned up. “I feel a presence, strong, seeking, sorrowful.” Her voice had deepened, attained a faint accent. “There are dark forces working against you. They hide from you, wait to do harm. Beware.”

She dropped her arms and grinned. “So, you tell the mark you need to have trust in order to offer protection from the dark forces. All they have to do is put say, a thousand cash — cash is all that works — in an envelope. Seal it. You make sure you tell them to seal it with this special wax you’re going to sell them. Then you’re going to do this cool chant over it, and bury the envelope in a secret place under the dark of the moon. After the moon’s cycled, you’ll dig up the envelope and give it back. The dark forces will have been vanquished.”

“That’s it? People just hand over the money?”

“Well, you string it out a little longer, do some research so you can hit them with names and events and shit. But basically, yeah. People want to believe.”

“Why?”

“Because life can really suck.”

Yes, Eve thought when she was alone again, she supposed it could. Hers certainly had for long stretches of time. Now she was living in a mansion with a man who, for some reason, loved her. She didn’t always understand her life or the man who now shared it, but she was adjusting. So well, in fact, that she decided not to go bury herself in work, but to go outside, into the golden autumn evening and take an hour for herself.