Page 36 of The Devil Went Down to Laughlin
Then again, what human being would call himself “August”?
Holding the business card, Caleb hurried back up the stairs. Ty was just coming down the staircase from the second floor.
“I found two more witch’s knots,” he said. “One in the master bedroom closet, and another scratched into the wall behind the medicine cabinet in the hall bath.”
“That’s great,” Caleb told him. “I found this.”
He handed the business card to Ty, who frowned down at it just as Prudence came around the corner.
“I didn’t see any of those knots in the living room or dining room,” she said. “But there was one on the service porch behind the dryer.” She paused there, as if noticing for the first time the card Ty was holding. “What’s that?”
“A business card I found down in the basement,” Caleb replied. “I’m hoping it might be a clue.”
“To what, exactly?” she asked. “I mean, what would a casino here in Laughlin have to do with Delia’s disappearance?”
“Maybe nothing,” Ty said, but before Caleb could interrupt, he went on, “Or maybe everything. Demons are often drawn to casinos because so many of the seven deadly sins are on full display there. They thrive on that sort of energy. So it’s possible this August Sellers is yet another demon in disguise.”
Since Caleb had been about to say pretty much the same thing — well, except the part about the seven deadly sins — he only nodded. “I don’t know if Delia told you,” he said, “but there was a casino exec in Las Vegas who hired her to track me down…except he was a full-blown demon masquerading as a normal person. If demons find Aaron valuable as a pawn, then it makes sense to me that Aaron might have had a business card from one of them.”
Pru stared down at the card for a moment. Then she looked up and smiled.
“Well, it sounds as if we have to pay this August Sellers a visit.”
She swam up toward consciousness like a diver moving toward the light of the sun flickering through water far overhead. Darkness had been everywhere, but now…
…now when she awoke, she realized she was still trapped in the dark.
Delia still couldn’t say exactly what had happened. She remembered driving to Heritage Park, and she remembered getting out of her car. For some reason, she’d been drawn to the cool blue waters of the river just beyond the parking lot, although it had been moving faster than she’d expected, and she’d realized it wouldn’t be very smart to stick her toes in.
No, instead she settled for walking on the grass until she found a place where she thought she should stop and call Caleb to let him know she was all right and would probably be heading back to Las Vegas soon.
Just as she’d been reaching for her phone, everything went dark.
Now she realized she was still caught in darkness. She lay on something soft, but her fingers moved over its surface and felt how narrow it was, and she realized it was probably a couch or maybe a chaise lounge rather than a bed. A blanket covered her up to the waist, and she was fully dressed, although the sandals she’d been wearing appeared to have vanished.
What the hell was going on?
“Hello?” she called out — or at least tried to. As soon as the word left her lips, however, it felt as if it had been swallowed up by the same darkness that surrounded her now.
Her heartbeat sped up, although she told herself she needed to remain calm. She still had no idea where she was or who had brought her here — or why it was so very dark, with not the slightest scintilla of light to let her see something of her surroundings — but she appeared to be safe and unharmed.
For now, anyway.
When she tried to push herself off the sofa or chaise or whatever it was that she lay on, though, it was as if she’d been caught in a prison whose dimensions were limited to the piece of furniture that supported her. She could change positions, could lie down or sit up, but she couldn’t swing her legs off the edge, couldn’t stand up so she might try to explore something of this Stygian prison where she was trapped.
Again, her heart began to hammer away in her chest, and she closed her eyes — not that it really mattered whether they were open or shut — and began doing the breathing exercises she’d learned from a friend who was a yoga instructor.
Breathe in for four…hold for four…release for four.
Oddly, that seemed to help a little. Or maybe she was just relieved she had even that much control over herself and her body.
Her pulse had slowed, and she knew she needed to take stock.
All right, shoes missing, but everything else apparently just as she remembered, down to the silver hoops in her ears and the silver ring with its cabochon tourmaline on the middle finger of her right hand. She felt around on the sofa/chaise but didn’t find anything that seemed to be her bag.
So, purse gone as well. That meant no phone, no way of getting in touch with Caleb or anyone else who could possibly help.
Which had to be by design, of course.
