Page 11 of Hoodoo House
“Freddy’s the boy in the picture on your desk, isn’t he?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah.” Declan just kept holding on to Charlie, and Charlie didn’t mind.
The moment was broken as a live band began to play an upbeat song and people started to dance. Charlie pulled himself back from Declan and started gyrating and stomping his feet to the beat, smiling and never taking his eyes off Declan.
“What are you doing?” Declan asked.
“Dancing,” Charlie called out. “Carrie and I go out every weekend. You should try it!” Charlie spun around, almost taking out Roger, who was zeroing in on Declan.
“Mr Hunt, would you care to dance?” Honeyfield said, awkwardly moving his arms and swaying his shoulders.
“I’m afraid Mr Hunt has promised me the first dance,” Charlie said, then took Declan by the hand and moved onto the dance floor.
Declan mouthed the words ‘thank you’ as he followed.
Over the next thirty minutes, whenever Charlie saw Honeyfield approach, he would start to flail his arms and take leaping strides, spinning around Declan, building a shield of limbs to shelter the handsome detective from the approaching enemy. Declan just laughed.
There was a brief lull in the music. Charlie and Declan were both panting from the exertion of dancing. When the band began to play again, it was a slow dance. Charlie moved to leave the dance floor when he felt a hand in his. Charlie turned and saw Declan standing there, no smile on his face, just a look of…something.
“Now it’s my turn to ask you to dance.”
Charlie allowed himself to be drawn in close. He could feel Declan’s muscular chest against his slim torso. One of Declan’s hands pressed against the small of his back, holding Charlie close to his body. Charlie hesitantly put his arm around Declan’s back and held tight. He’d never slow-danced with a man before. Charlie nuzzled his face into Declan’s neck as they swayed across the dance floor to a song that Charlie hoped would never end.
Chapter Three
The evening came to a close at around eleven o’clock. As they made their way out of the ballroom and down the stairs towards the front door of the hotel, Charlie heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind. He turned, expecting he’d have to fend off Roger Honeyfield. Instead it was an attractive Asian man in a nicely tailored charcoal-grey suit. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. He wore horn-rimmed glasses and had a strong square jaw. Charlie thought he looked like a manga comic book version of Clark Kent.
“Mr Hunt. May I have a word with you?” he asked as he caught up with them at the front door.
“Sure,” Declan replied.
“This may take a while. Can I buy the two of you a drink?”
“Sure,” Declan answered, like it was the only word he had left in his vocabulary. It was clear he was tired and that the stress of the event had taken a toll on him. Charlie suspected that, if the man who had approached them hadn’t been so attractive, they would be heading out of the door instead of having drinks with him.
“By the way,” Charlie said, extending his hand, “I’m Charlie Watts.”
“Like the drummer! Nice to meet you, Charlie,” he said without offering his name back.
The man led them to the lobby bar. As they wound their way to a table in the far corner, Charlie whispered to Declan, “What’s this guy want to say to you that he couldn’t have said at the party?”
Declan shrugged. “I guess we’re going to find out.”
“I hope this is comfortable enough for you,” the man said as they sat. “Now, I was watching the two of you and I don’t think you’ve had anything to eat all night. Shall we order some food?”
Charlie had already begun to look at the menu. “That would be great. Thanks.”
The man motioned the waiter over. Once their order was taken and the waiter had departed, the man looked around, then turned back to face them. “Now, I should introduce myself. My name is Sinclair Yamada.”
Charlie recognized the name. “You called earlier this week.”
“Yes, and I received your return message. Thanks for getting back to me.” He turned to Declan. “I already had my ticket for the event tonight, so when I heard that you would be here, I thought I might just as well approach you in person. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No problem,” Declan said.
Charlie was concerned. Declan seemed to be just a shell of his usual self. He wished this Yamada guy would just get to the point so Charlie could get Declan home. Charlie decided he would have to take charge.
“If I remember right,” Charlie said, “you work for Mount Temple Press.”
