Page 56 of Dropping Like Flies

“I presume so. There shouldn’t be anything else they need me to do now that Satanic Romeo is in custody.”

“It’s definitely him, then?”

“It would seem so.”

Cade’s brow wrinkled. “I thought you and Ben interviewed him earlier in the case. Couldn’t you tell there was something off about him?”

“He wasn’t wearing a necklace made of fingers, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I wasn’t concerned about giving Cade details of the case. No doubt his many connections meant he knew it all, anyway. Besides, now that Dougie was in custody, it was only a matter of time before the press got hold of all the finer details previously kept from them. They were going to have a field day with the satanic symbols—even if they hadn’t amounted to anything in the end.

“Anyway,” Cade said, “I guess the main thing is you got him in the end. I tell you what… take Monday off and I’ll see you back here on Tuesday. How’s that? Maybe you and Ben can do something if he can get the time off. He’s the hero of the hour. I doubt anyone is going to say no to him.”

“Unusually generous, but I’ll take it before you change your mind. ”

A full bladder had me stopping off at the restroom once my meeting with Cade ended. Habit had me using the one on the necromancer’s floor, even though I had zero intentions of going anywhere near my desk. I’d save that ‘joy’ until Tuesday. Not losing myself in a bottle anymore meant I was going to have to turn up to work a lot more than I had in the past few years. It was time to live again instead of merely existing.

I frowned at the sound of a voice as I pushed the restroom door open, not letting it swing shut to announce my presence as I listened.

“… I know that.”

Calisto’s voice. I hadn’t been away from the PPB—or absent enough before that—that I didn’t recognize it. He was in a stall with the door closed. Did he have someone in there with him? The little devil. So much for being a goody two-shoes. Who would he be screwing in the PPB, though? One of the psychics? I doubted it. Someone from IT or human resources? That was more feasible.

“Yeah, but it’s not that simple, is it?” A pause. “It’s easy for you to say that.”

Disappointment hit at the lack of a second voice, dashing my hopes of uncovering a juicy scandal. I assumed Calisto was on his phone. Why take a phone call in there, though? Why not take it at his desk? Perhaps there was a chance of scandal, after all.

“I don’t want to do that.” An edge of frustration had crept into Calisto’s voice, which was unusual when I’d witnessed him being anything but affable. “You can keep telling me that all you want, but it’s not me. It’s not something I want, and if you want me to keep talking to you, you need to stop putting pressure on me.” Another pause while the other person was presumably speaking. “I’ll just pretend you’re not here. I’m going to do it now. See if I don’t.”

The toilet flushed and then Calisto stepped out of the cubicle without a phone in his hand. He did a double take when he saw me, color rushing to his cheeks as he went over to the sink and turned the tap on.

I finally let the door swing shut and followed him over to the sinks, propping my hip against one and watching him as Calisto refused to meet my gaze in the mirror while he washed his hands. “I didn’t know you were back,” he eventually said when the silence had stretched on for too long. “I thought I was alone on this floor.”

“I thought you had a guy in there.” Calisto glanced back at the stall like there was something to see. Which was weird, considering he’d left the door open and there was nothing in the stall save for what should have been there. I wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to wind him up a bit more, though. “I thought you’d dragged Asher down here to see if it was possible to ruffle him.”

Calisto frowned as he turned the tap off and reached for a paper towel to dry his hands. “What do you mean?”

“Asher. Man of no emotions. That’s why John calls him various names, all to do with ice. That was the joke. The very unlikely thought of Asher having sex with anyone. Never mind, in a bathroom stall. I’m not convinced that beneath those sharp suits, there’s anything to see. He’s probably got the genitals of an Action Man.” When Calisto just stared, I felt the need to explain. “They don’t have any, right? Just painted on pants. Or nothing at all. You must have seen one.”

“I know what an Action Man is.”

“So why the confusion?”

“Asher always sounds nice on the phone when I speak to him. He’s got a lovely voice.”

“I’m sure Jeffrey Dahmer sounded nice on the phone.” Christ! I had serial killers on the brain, which wasn’t surprising considering how I’d spent the last couple of weeks. Hopefully, it would wear off when I got back to a normal routine. “You’ve got to admit that in person, he’s a little harder to take.” I was aware that given my less than sparkling personality of late that I could probably win awards for hypocrisy, but this was Calisto, who was far too nice to pick me up on it.

“I’ve never met him.”

“What?” I stared at him, trying to make sense out of his words. “What do you mean? How’s that possible?” Calisto’s only response was a shrug. “What about when you go upstairs to see Cade?”

“Asher’s never there.”

“He’s always there. John even jokes about him never going home.”

Calisto shook his head. “His desk is always empty whenever I go up.”

Losing patience with the sheer absurdity of the conversation, I made for the stall Calisto hadn’t just come out of, unable to shake the memory of the bizarre look he’d given the other one, like there really had been someone in there. Was it too much to expect at least one person in my life to behave normally? Was Calisto always like this and I’d been too lost in my own head—or drunk—to notice? It would explain why I’d always thought he was too sweet to be a necromancer. Perhaps there was a big dose of weird in there, after all.

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