Page 45 of Speak of the Devil

She could call Robert, tell him she hadn’t been able to find anything helpful, and offer to return the money. Yes, giving up ten grand wasn’t the most appealing scenario in the world, but at least if she gave the deposit back to him, they wouldn’t have a business relationship anymore, and she wouldn’t feel obligated to tell him anything.

Besides, she was going to receive more than four times that amount when the deal on the Pueblo Street house closed. It wasn’t as if walking away from her agreement with Robert Hendricks was going to stress her financially. She hadn’t been expecting that money, so she wouldn’t miss it when it was gone.

Yes, backing away from the whole thing definitely seemed to be the best solution.

Still, she wished she could call Prudence and talk over the situation with her, but although Pru was on board with all the ghost stuff, Delia had a feeling her friend might have a few issues when it came to demons.

Even ones who had only a quarter demonic blood.

Also, while Caleb hadn’t sworn her to secrecy, she knew she would never betray his confidence by blabbing his secrets to her best friend unless he explicitly told her it was okay.

She had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen. For whatever reason, he’d decided to trust her, but she doubted he’d be allright with her circle of friends knowing her latest client had a little more under the hood than most people might have expected.

By that point, it was around five-thirty. Delia supposed it would have been okay to call Robert now, since, while it wasn’t strictly business hours, the time wasn’t so late that doing so would have been rude.

However, because she was a chickenshit, she decided to wait until morning.

“It’s only been a couple of days,” came Robert Hendricks’ startled voice through the phone’s speaker. “I hope you didn’t get the impression that I was expecting results right away.”

“Oh, no,” Delia replied at once. Again following the chickenshit principle, she’d told herself it would be better to call him after she got to the office and could reach out well after nine o’clock that morning. “That’s not why I think it’s better not to pursue this anymore. I visited several casinos over the weekend, but I never sensed anything that felt like the presence of a demon…or even a ghost.”

Well, except the imp-thing that Caleb had told her attacked him in the Bellagio’s parking structure. But, strictly speaking, she hadn’t known what it was when she sensed the smoky residue on the third level of the garage, only that something weird had gone down there.

“I still don’t think you should give up,” Robert said. “We had some big winners over the weekend, but nothing that stood out as anything out of the ordinary. It’s entirely possible that our demon stayed home…wherever that is.”

Delia knew that wasn’t true because Caleb had mentioned going to the casino on Saturday. Maybe he’d dialed down the winning to avoid arousing suspicion.

“I suppose so,” she replied, knowing how dubious she sounded. “But even if that’s the case, there’s no way to know for sure whether I’d even be able to help you. Like I told you when we first met, I’ve only dealt with ghosts, and I don’t know if I’d recognize a demon’s energy on the off chance that I did somehow manage to bump into one.”

That part wasn’t even a lie. When she’d first met Caleb, she hadn’t detected anything out of the ordinary about him…except maybe to admit to herself that he was the best-looking man she’d seen in a long, long time.

True, when he’d grabbed her arm to prevent her from getting pushed into the pool, she’d felt that odd tingle, but she’d only chalked the sensation up to a rush of adrenaline. She hadn’t sensed anything strange when they shook hands the first time they’d met, back at her office.

“There’s no one else in Las Vegas who can do what you do,” Robert Hendricks pressed, and she had to smile.

“There are plenty of psychics and mediums in this town.”

“Ninety percent of whom are fakes,” he countered. “You’re the real deal, though. That’s why I came to you in the first place.”

“And I appreciate the vote of confidence,” she said. “But I don’t think I’m going to come up with anything useful.”

She almost added that she’d just taken on a new client with a challenging project and didn’t think she’d have any room in her schedule for demon hunting. However, Robert spoke first, forestalling any comments on that topic.

“I still think you only need more time,” he told her. “And I’m willing to be patient.”

“What if your demon swoops in and wins a million bucks at Caesar’s Palace or something?”

“Then possibly we’ll have to revisit our agreement,” Robert said without missing a beat. “In the meantime, do what you can. If the situation at the casinos remains as low-level as it was over the weekend, then things aren’t as urgent as you seem to believe they are.”

It sounded as if whatever argument she wanted to present, he’d just find a different rationale to counter it. And if he really wanted to let things run their course for a while to see what happened, then she supposed she’d have to go with his preferences for now. The ten grand was just sitting in her savings account, earning an extremely modest amount of interest, so it wasn’t as if she’d have to worry about what might happen if she spent some of it and then decided to back out of their deal after all.

“Okay,” she said, a little annoyed with herself for capitulating, even though she guessed there wasn’t any way to get rid of the guy without being downright rude. “How about we give it another week? I really think at that point if I haven’t found anything, then it’s just not there…or at least, I’m not able to sense it.”

“That would be fine,” Robert replied. “I can see why you wouldn’t want this hanging over you indefinitely, but another week will give you a chance to visit more casinos and figure out if you simply weren’t looking in the right place.”

Delia knew there was a lot more to the situation than that, but she didn’t argue. Let Robert Hendricks think she was diligently inspecting every casino within a half-mile radius of the Strip. She planned to let the time slip by, and then at the end of that additional week, she’d go back to him and say she was sorry, but she still hadn’t found anything, and here’s a cashier’s check for the ten grand.

No harm, no foul.

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