Mark grunted. “It’s a piece of shit.”
“Think anyone will bid on it?”
“Who knows? When it comes to art you can never predict what people will buy.”
“How long have you been here at the colony?”
Mark grimaced. “Nine days, five hours, and twenty minutes—not that I’m counting. I’m not going to make it to the end of the contract. Hate to ditch the ten grand but I haven’t been able to sleep much for the past few days. When I do, I have nightmares. Worse yet, the vibe is interfering with my work.”
“What’s the vibe from?”
“The canyons,” Mark said. He gestured to indicate the red rock walls around the compound. “Between you and me, I didn’t believe in the vortex thing when I first arrived. All I cared about was the cash. But after a few days in this place I’m convinced there’s something going on.”
“Like what?” Luke asked.
“I dunno. Maybe this is one of those places we humans don’t belong. You know, like an ocean trench. Okay to visit but you don’t want to build a town there.”
“I slept fine last night. But I’m not an artist. You’re probably more sensitive to that kind of thing.”
“Nah,” Mark grunted. “The reason you didn’t have a problem is that the hotel sits a couple of blocks away from what the rest of us call the hot zone. The casitas are a lot closer to the strongest vibes.”
“Where is the worst spot in the compound?”
“That damned gallery,” Mark said. “No question. The guests never seem to notice it much but they aren’t here for more than a few days. Also, I’m starting to think that all the high-tech lights in the area dampen the freaky sensations.”
“An interesting theory.”
“What do I know? I’m an artist, not an engineer.”
“Like Hatch?”
“Give me a break. Hatch is supposed to be some kind of genius when it comes to lights, but between you and me, he doesn’t know fuck about art.”
“I see. Thanks for the information. I’d better get going. My wife wanted me to find Grant.”
“Don’t tell me she’s thinking of buying thatSuccubus.”
“No, she studies mythology. She wants to ask Grant whatinspired him to create the installation. I told her I’d try to track him down and see if he’ll agree to sit for an interview.”
“Good luck, but I’m pretty sure the inspiration was a bad horror movie.” Mark started to turn away, but he paused long enough to give Luke a head-to-toe look. “I like the leather jacket. Are you into motorcycles?”
“No, they make me nervous. I’m risk averse.”
Thirty-Five
He used the Wells jammerto open the back door of the small residence. Once inside he paused for a moment, absorbing the atmosphere. He could feel the ominous pulse of the vortex energy all the way to his bones. Mark was right. The casitas were sitting close to the hot zone. With the lights turned off inside Grant’s place and the shades closed, the vibe was very noticeable.
He heightened his senses. His night vision kicked in. The small space was now illuminated in colors that emanated from the far end of the spectrum, shades for which there were no names. He thought of them as ultra colors—ultraviolet, ultragreen, ultrablue.
He went about a fast, methodical search.
The closet was crammed with shirts, jeans, and a tux—all in black. What was it with artists and black clothes? Then he thought about his own closet. Okay, it wasn’tentirelyfilled with black, but there was a hell of a lot of it. Maybe he should get an aloha shirt.
He shut the closet door and continued the search, moving quickly. He was beginning to think he was going to come up empty when he found the collection of sketchbooks under the bed.
The books were dated. He opened the first one and flipped through it. He was the first to admit he didn’t know much about art, but it seemed to him that Grant had some genuine artistic ability and an eye for revealing the unexpected details in an otherwise ordinary scene.
He also had a taste for the macabre. There were a number of floral sketches and watercolors, but the plants were all carnivorous. Tiny insects were shown struggling to escape the jaws of flowers. One sketchbook was filled with pictures of elaborately decorated crypts, coffins, and graveyards. Another contained highly detailed, extremely gory crime scenes. Evidently Grant had not lied to Sophy about that aspect of his work, although there was no way to know if the drawings were official police sketches.
