“Do you like potatoes?”
Chapter 22
Wyatt crunchedon another piece of popcorn, his thoughts drifting as he stared at his computer screen. He knew all the warnings about creating personal relationships with specters since the dead were unstable, and he’d done a good job at ignoring the ones living in the mansion. But John was asking more questions and had taken the liberty of entering Wyatt’s computer room without permission.
Despite the violation of his personal space, Wyatt couldn’t complain. John had knowledge about computers and had given him some tips when he was going through Penny’s files. Though John had no memory of his life, he certainly knew his way around criminology and organizing a sting operation.
Between the two of them, they’d come up with the plan to use Blue as bait. While it was Wyatt’s idea to glean information from Penny’s profile and put it in Blue’s bio, John was the one who suggested answering all correspondence the way Penny would—using similar phrases and tone. Eventually, John would grow listless discussing the case and drift into the halls in search of the red room.
Specters were like that. Some had short attention spans and wandering minds. It wasn’t unlike dealing with humans with dementia. Sometimes they stayed angry for ten years, and other times their emotions flickered on and off like a light switch. He liked John, but that didn’t mean he wanted to live with him. It wasn’t fair to build a friendship with him. The more specters tethered themselves to the living, the less likely they were to move on to wherever souls are supposed to go.
Wyatt propped his feet on his desk, ankles crossed, and munched on another handful of popcorn. Viktor made concessions about Wyatt’s snacking since he spent a lot of time in his computer room. Everyone else’s assignments usually took them out of the house, and Wyatt didn’t like making repeated trips to the kitchen. He’d lose focus if in the middle of something, so he kept his own little stash of treats up here. Usually chips, but he loved Raisinets and always hid a box in his drawer.
John had taken off earlier and left Wyatt to some peace and quiet.
“Niko needs to stop feeding that damn feral cat,” Shepherd grumbled as he ambled into the room and sat on the sofa. “I saw that little rat chaser prancing around in the driveway again.”
Wyatt spun around in his leather chair to face him, white cheese coating his hand. “What size skirt do you wear?”
Shepherd’s eyebrows sloped down. “Viktor mentioned something about a party. If you put me in a dress, I’ll put you in the ground.”
Wyatt brushed off Shepherd’s threat. “Our attendance is required, so be sure to bathe. Might as well shave your legs while you’re at it. We have a suspect, and Blue’s going in as bait.”
“Then she needs to dress up as an Indian princess and carry her tomahawk.”
“That’s not going to fly. Romeo thinks she’s a blonde, so she’s got to wear something appropriate with that wig.”
Shepherd widened his legs and spread his arms across the back of the L-shaped couch. “Romeo,” he said, as if it was a curse.
“Why do you think he’d invite her to a blasted ball? That’s pretty ballsy.” Wyatt smirked at his play on words.
Shepherd twisted his right arm and examined his phoenix tattoo. “Killers want respect. They can’t get a thrill unless they top themselves, and that’s what has me uneasy about this situation. What better place to create a stir than a party with the most elite people in the city? Maybe he wants everyone to know he’s out there and he’s not getting enough attention.”
“Must be an only child,” Wyatt said absently. “Everyone needs to charge their phones so we can stay in communication. You can hook them up in here overnight. Since the killer’s a Vamp, we can only send text messages.”
“Gem isn’t happy about this situation,” Blue said, drifting into the room.
Wyatt hiccupped. “It’s not her call. This isn’t recreational. We need to wear the same matching costume so we can find each other in the crowd. Even if someone else there is rocking a tartan, they won’t be in the designIpicked out.”
“I shudder to think,” Shepherd added.
Blue straddled the stool next to Wyatt. “She wants us to all go as wizards. Why not indulge the girl?”
Wyatt spun a tiny lock of his hair between two fingers. “Capes and staffs don’t exactly stand out at a costume ball. It’s too late; I’ve already placed the order. Anyhow, do I look like a jerk? I think I did the ladies justice. You’ll see.”
Wyatt admired Blue’s cleavage when she bent over to tug at her boot, but he was a man and it couldn’t be helped, though he did try to be discreet about it. She might have thought dressing in a pair of cargo pants and a tank top wouldn’t attract attention, but a tent couldn’t hide the fact that Blue had a body made for sin.
Shepherd cleared his throat, and when Wyatt looked up, Shepherd slowly shook his head and stared daggers at him.
Wyatt lifted the popcorn bag and stared at the remaining kernels at the bottom. “You’re going as Cinderella,” he informed Blue.
Her eyes flashed up. “I don’t know about this. Why can’t we arrange to meet him somewhere else?”
“Afraid of a little perfume and blush? It won’t kill you to put on a dress and act like a woman.”
She sharpened her gaze at him. “It just might if my date turns out to be the serial killer.”
Shepherd leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Don’t go anywhere alone with this guy, and don’t look him in the eye. If he’s got anything devious in mind, he’ll want to do it in private. We need to stay close and gather enough evidence to incriminate him without putting you in danger.”
