The Muse (Interracial Mystery Romance) (Dark Art Mystery Series) (11 page)

BOOK: The Muse (Interracial Mystery Romance) (Dark Art Mystery Series)
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Reece practically dragged me out of the kitchen. “We need to discuss a serious matter, sir.”

“Okay. Go ahead.” I spotted Elle through the window, wandering next to a woman with red hair. Today, Elle wore almond colored pants that formed around her thighs and hung below her waist. A thin, white material wrapped around her breasts. All of that luscious black hair draped her shoulders and fell past her behind as it waved in the breeze. I almost tapped on the window to get her attention.

For what, to say hi like a bumbling idiot? What did I expect, that a few minutes in an art
museum would form some sort of connection?

Reece talked to me about whatever emergency was happening, but my attention

remained on Elle while she walked with the women toward the garden.

“. . . but Mrs. Greer promised that it won’t happen again. I’ve called a locksmith to fix the attic door and—”

“What?” I stopped ogling Elle and directed my attention to Reece. “Mrs. Greer said

what?”

“Well, the night before last the doorknob and lock were broken on the entrance to the attic, but she confirmed that no one entered or left last night.”

Dear god.

I ran trembling fingers through my hair. “How could she confirm it?”

“Mrs. Greer had security look at the cameras outside the attic door. They reported that no one walked in or out of that level.”

The attic door is messed with and a girl is killed, all in the same evening. That can’t be
simple coincidence.

“Get a guard for the door.” Instead of heading to my office, I took the last flight to the attic.

“That’s a total of twenty new guards on the property, sir.”

“That’s fine. I would rather overdo it than have another person die. Make sure this party is monitored as well. No one can attend but the guests who lived here. I also want them watched as much as possible. For all we know, one of them killed the girl and we’re throwing the sicko a celebration.”

She scribbled it all down. A beep sounded from her hip. “That’s the reminder for the meeting with Metropolitan Art Museum. I rescheduled it for four. We have fifteen minutes.”

“You go ahead. I have to check on something.” I left her right there and climbed up the final pair of steps that almost no one but my grandma and I traveled. The rest of the people who ventured this way did so out of duty and responsibility. Our maids didn’t clean the space daily like the rest of the castle. Only the one maid who had been in service with us for years could clean this section. Security did nightly patrols of the door outside of the attic. I didn’t inform them of why, they simply did what they were told. Hex never made it up here. He couldn’t deal with it. Grandma did out of a sense of duty and knew that no one else would, no one else cared.

Did you hurt that girl?

I approached the door. A guard stood next to a man in a blue uniform as he stayed on his knees and fidgeted with the door.
This must be the locksmith.
I studied the area. Scrape marks trimmed the edges of the metal hinges. They hadn’t been there when I visited last time.
When
had I last come up here? Last month, or longer?

“Does it look like someone broke out of this door, or was someone trying to break in?” I asked the locksmith.

“It looks like someone kept slamming things against the door.” He pointed to the hinges.

“You see how the nails are sticking forward like that? That means the door was being pushed from the inside. The door knob had that same problem. In my opinion, I don’t think anyone was breaking in. It looks like someone was trying to break out.”

“And you checked the security tape on the cameras out here?” I asked the guard.

“Yes sir. Although. . .”

“What?”

The guard shifted from side to side and looked around. “All the cameras up here shut off after ten at night.”

“Excuse me?”

The guard rubbed his hands together. “I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t going to say anything about it. In fact, I was asked not to say anything since the cameras are now fixed to record all the time, but I heard that a young girl died yesterday and that she was around both of my sisters’ ages. I didn’t feel right about lying.”

“Who’s in charge of the cameras?”

“Mr. Brewster.”

“Okay.”
Today will be Mr. Brewster’s last day of work.
“Consider yourself promoted to his position. Who else knew about this?”

“Just me, his wife, and him. We’re the only ones allowed up here.”

“His wife?” I scrunched my face up in confusion.

“Mrs. Greer. She uses her maiden name.”

So they can work here together without me knowing that they were married.

They’d both come with a lot of credentials and recommendations from very trusted

associates. I would’ve probably hired them regardless and understood their need to be together.

The positions were practically twenty-four/seven. Grandma relieved her at times, but Mrs. Greer pretty much lived, slept, and ate up here. She would’ve wanted to see her husband every now and then, maybe even have a few late night visits. She had a big bedroom in the attic and didn’t think it was a big deal to have her husband slip by whenever everyone else was asleep.

It probably wouldn’t have been a big deal to me, either. I would’ve just gotten another
person up here. Why hadn’t I listened to Grandma?

She’d said that two nurses and three guards should be up there to relieve each other. I assured her it would happen, but I never had the time to do the hiring. Grandma volunteered to hire people herself.
No way.
I imagined Santeros with paint on their faces and bone necklaces flanking the door. There was no way Grandma could be in charge of such a delicate task. My assistant had offered, too. She’d been standing next to my grandma while we argued about it.

Reece knew who lived in the attic and understood that the person’s presence served as a major migraine for my battered skull.

I’ll have to hire new nurses and guards upon the hour. Mrs. Greer’s and Mr. Brewster’s
need for conjugal visits may very well have caused the young girl’s death.

“Excuse me. I’m going inside.”

The locksmith pulled the door back. I entered. Little mirrors in the shape of stars hung from the ceiling. Sunlight bounced off them and reflected onto the black paint on the walls. It was like stepping into space. On the right wall, strips of various types of wallpaper were tacked onto the smooth surface. Wherever I traveled or met someone on business, I made sure to get a strip of pretty wallpaper from a local store. Dayanara relished the different textures and colors.

Every now and then I’d give her a basket full of chocolates and sour candies, maybe a bottle of lovely smelling perfume, or even an expensive doll dressed in silky ribbons. She never opened or explored those gifts. It was always the strips of wallpaper that she rushed to with open shivering hands.

Yes. I’ll have to replace Mrs. Greer tonight.

Mrs. Greer lay asleep on the gray couch in the far back of the space. Ragged snores escaped her opened mouth. The television played a game show. The host screamed, “And now we have the final round. Are you ready to bet it all?”

The audience cheered.

I headed to Dayanara’s door. The knob turned with no problem. Anger boomed in my

chest. I’d ordered Mrs. Greer to keep the door locked at all times. Dayanara could have fled with no problem if security and the locksmith weren’t here.

Maybe I’ll let Reece hire a temporary nurse. I can’t handle that and all the other things
that have been thrown to the side today.

I opened the door. Shadows broke out and cast darkness everywhere.

“I’ll bet it all, Jim!” One of the contestants said.

“Are you sure?” the host asked.

“Yes! I bet it all!”

People clapped. A coppery scent filled the air. My heart raced as I slid my hand across the wall and searched for the light switch. No windows were in this room, so when the lights were off; only the black of night remained. The rough edges of concrete blocks scraped against my skin. Dayanara never allowed me to decorate her bedroom. In there, she only wanted the hard concrete bricks and cement cracks to look back at her.

“Okay. He’s going to bet it all.” Some upbeat jingle played and then the television went hushed for a few seconds.
Where the hell is the light switch?
I would have called out her name, but I didn’t want to wake her if she was asleep.

“You get three guesses to name this animal,” the game show host explained.

“I’m ready.”

“The
suricata suricatta
has been known to kill their mother’s, sister’s, and daughter’s offspring. Scientists have reported infanticidal raids from this species as well.”

“Jim, my first guess will be a mongoose.”

A beep came.

“The judges say you need to be clearer. This species is from the mongoose family.”

“Then it must be a meerkat, Jim.”

Horns blew. People roared with applause.

I found the light and flipped it on. The room illuminated with white light. Cold seeped into my skin until I was nothing but a block of ice. Dayanara sat on the floor in a pool of blood with a doll in her hands. Her long legs lay in the sticky substance. Red liquid slicked back her already crimson and gray strands. Sores dotted her forehead as if she’d tried to stab her eyes out.

She blinked and swayed a little. A paint brush lay on the floor drenched in green paint and red liquid.
She must’ve used the end of the brush on herself.
I ran to her, wrenched the doll away, and checked her hands. A large hole in her wrist spit out warm blood.

“Mrs. Greer! Wake up and get a doctor. Now! Call nine-one-one.”

“Don’t.” Dayanara’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Let me die.”

I tensed as the wound gurgled a tiny stream of blood onto my hands.

Would it be that simple? To let her die, right here? Maybe all the problems would be
solved.

“I can’t.” I yanked off my suit jacket and wrapped my sleeve tightly around the wound.

“Mrs. Greer! Damn you! Wake up!”

Dayanara tried to pull her arm away, but she was too weak. “Just let me go.”

That warm liquid stained my pants and stuck to my knees as I kneeled in the puddle.

“And then how will I survive it? If I let that happen?”

“You always survive.” Her eyelids fluttered as she fell back. “But no one else will when he returns.”

“Who?”

“Snyder, my love. Snyder is coming.”

“He’s dead. He’s long gone.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Mrs. Greer!”

“It doesn’t matter that he’s gone. He figured out a way to come back.”

Stomping boomed behind me.

“Oh my god!” Mrs. Greer screamed and collapsed in the doorway.

* * *

Two hours later, I paced in the living room. Blood soiled my clothes and smeared across my shoes. The day got worse and worse. Yesterday morning began with a dead girl. Today seemed to end with another almost dead woman. If I saw any more blood today, I would sink into myself and not come out.
Then what would happen to everyone? Then what will become of
Grandma and Hex?
The host tree could die among the thick roots and strong branches of a banyan, but nothing else could rot, because then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t let that happen, so I stomped back and forth, muddied with dry red liquid and stress that dripped from every pore on my body.

How much could I deal with today, without breaking down like all the rest?

The door opened. I paused and caught of view of Grandma lighting a bushel of green

herbs and singing a chant. The earthy scent drifted out of the opening as Dr. Rosenberg left and closed a passed out Dayanara and chanting Grandma into the room.

“What’s my grandma doing?”

“A purity spell to cleanse the room of bad spirits.”

“Will the smoke bother Dayanara?”

“She’s out cold with the stuff I injected her with. She won’t wake up until tomorrow.”

“Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Don’t thank me, just take my advice.”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “Not this again.”

“Dayanara should be in a mental facility where people can treat these things.” Dr.

Rosenberg yanked off his plastic gloves, stained with Dayanara’s blood, and slung them in the trash can. “There’s nothing here that will help her.”

“And a facility will? We’ve tried her being away. It didn’t work.”

He walked over to the kitchenette I’d had built in the attic and washed his hands. “She wasn’t the reason it didn’t work. Your grandma Needa’s constant group séances in front of the facility is what got her kicked out.”

“Well . . . it still didn’t do anything for the situation.”

“Every time I visit her, this gets worse.”

“I only call you when things are bad.”

Dr. Rosenberg sighed. “What does Needa say?”

“My grandma has nothing to do with where Dayanara will go or stay.”

“Then I give up.” He turned the faucet off, wiped his wet fingers with a towel, and headed out of the space. “I’ll send my bill to Reece.”

“Good.” I trailed behind him and didn’t say any more as I turned off to my own floor and made it to my bedroom. A shower couldn’t be held off any more. Clanking, banging, and booming sounded from the level below. It must’ve been the crew who showed up to decorate, cook, and fill the castle with incessant noise for the festivities being held tonight. Sometime between X-Lab’s opening and this morning, Hex had decided to hold an even bigger event than the party he’d intended.

I entered my room and drew back the curtains to see what all the noise was outside.

“What the fuck?”

Men dressed in glittery wings and sequin coated leotards stepped around the yard on tall stilts. Others loaded boxes out of a big gray truck and marched into the castle.
What’s in them?

BOOK: The Muse (Interracial Mystery Romance) (Dark Art Mystery Series)
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Deceptive Nights by Sylvia Hubbard
Unafraid by Cat Miller
Lady Be Good by Nancy Martin
Short Back and Sides by Peter Quinn
Camouflage by Joe Haldeman