Cleo ignored him. “I don’t live far. I was one of the first people out here on the street. You remember Boris Koblinsky, the guy in room ten?”
“I’m not likely to forget,” Jenny said.
“Well, he ain’t there no more.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I got here, the fire was really blazin’. I started thinking about room ten, wondering about Boris. I began to feel something. I realized I could feel the bastard in that room.”
Cain scoffed. “What the hell, Cleo? You aren’t saying the fire killed whatever thing was in that room?”
“Not exactly.” She turned back to Jenny. “You know that young sheriff who shot him?”
“John Mackey. What about him?”
“You recall he died in a fire.”
Jenny’s shoulders straightened as her gaze sharpened on Cleo’s. “Yes.”
“Well, he was here tonight. I could feel him. He dealt with Boris Koblinsky, once and for all.”
“That’s absurd,” Cain said.
Cleo continued to ignore him. “I’m not sure how it works, but the sheriff was here—handsome, he was—and a few seconds later, that rotten bastard went up in flames. Boris is exactly where he oughta be—burnin’ in the fires of hell.”
“That’s total and complete—”
Jenny gently set her fingers against Cain’s lips. “I guess we’ll never know for sure, but I’m willing to believe what Cleo says. The hotel is gone, but if Boris is gone, too, maybe it’s worth it. Boris was responsible for the death of Brian Santana and at least three women. Maybe he finally had to face the wrath of God.”
Cleo started nodding, moving her triple chins. “Could be,” she said.
Cain considered Cleo’s wild story. Since he didn’t want to think about what had happened to him in that room, he changed the subject.
“We’re rebuilding,” Cain said, snagging Jenny’s attention. “How many times has the Star burned down?”
Jenny looked up at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Four.”
“So what’s one more? We rebuild the Copper Star—but not until we find the sonofabitch who burned it down.”
Cleo cackled a laugh. “Sounds like a good plan to me. Since my building is still standin’, I’m going home. I’ll call Nell tomorrow, see if she’ll meet me for lunch.” Cleo smiled. “I’ll give her all the gory details.” She looked at Jenny. “I suggest you both go home, too.”
“We have to talk to the chief,” Jenny said wearily.
Cleo’s glance swung to Cain. “Take her home and give her some lovin’. You’re good at just about everything. I imagine you’re good at that, too.”
Cain just smiled.
Cleo set off for home in her side-to-side sailor’s gait, and Cain nudged Jenny forward.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said.
Jenny nodded. Cain could tell the shock of what had happened was returning.
“Tomorrow we’ll figure it out,” he promised, keeping a firm hand at her waist.
Jenny looked up at him. “You really think so?”
“I know so.” Because Cain had already figured it out.
