Read Deadly Sin (Cassandra Farbanks) Online
Authors: Sonnet O'Dell
Tags: #Farbanks, #Urban, #Eternal Press, #magic, #Vampires, #phoenix, #werewolf, #series, #modern, #Halloween, #Paranormal, #Sonnet ODell, #comical, #Fantasy, #October, #seven deadly sins, #stalker, #Cassandra, #9781615729357, #romantic
Slipping back into the main room I cringed at the loud
slap slap
the sandals made against the soles of my feet and floor. Aram slept on. I went to the main door and slid the key around in the lock till it clicked open.
The corridor was as silent as a tomb and just as cold as I walked out. I headed slowly towards the front where the office was. It wasn’t till I reached the main room that I met any people. Several of the staff milled around the dance floor, decorating. I saw carved jack-o’-lanterns in strategic locations. They hung rubber bats, cardboard ghosts and realistic looking cobwebs. I recognized a few faces, even if I didn’t know their names, and nodded as I crossed the dance floor. I didn’t miss the leaning in and whispers that followed. I turned the handle to the office door and pushed it open.
Lance, the vamps daytime guy, sat at his desk just inside and beamed at me. This would have been a pleasant greeting if it hadn’t made the bolts sticking out of his neck bobble. He followed my gaze.
“Happy Halloween. I’m going to a party as Frankenstein later. The glues takes a while to dry properly.”
“Frankenstein’s monster,” I corrected him, and he looked puzzled. “Frankenstein was the scientist, not the creation.” He nodded as if that made some kind of sense to him. “Why not go as a vampire?”
Lance was an employed human hoping if he served well enough a vampire would think him worthy and turn him. His nose wrinkled.
“Is there a greater way you can think of that would be most offensive to my master?” I conceded the point. Cheesy, fake fangs and a bad Transylvanian accent were the bane of all vampires this time of year. “I wasn’t aware you and master Aram had patched things up.”
“Temporarily,” I said, uncomfortable at his quick change of subject. “I had to crash here last night as an emergency. What’d I’d really like is to use the phone?”
Lance got up and pulled out the large, leather chair behind the large desk at the back, Jareth’s desk. He offered me the seat in the style of an old world gentleman. I slid into it and he brought the phone closer to me.
“Dial nine and then your number. I’ll give you some privacy. Coffee?”
“Please, cream and…”
“Three sugars, I remember Miss Farbanks. I’ll return.” Lance left the room. I forgot how good Lance was at his job. I picked up the receiver, dialed nine and then the number for my office. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.
“Farbanks investigations. How can we help?”
“Trink it’s me.”
“Miss Cassandra? Are you alright? The policeman, the handsome one came here looking for you. He’s called twice since then. You didn’t come home. I’ve been so worried.” I rubbed my temples. Of course Hamilton was looking for me. I’d vanished on him.
“I’m alright. I’m at Dante’s. I stayed the night here. I need you to flip through the rolodex on my desk and read me out Hamilton’s number. I don’t have my phone.”
Without my cell phone I was rubbish at recalling telephone numbers. I searched Jareth’s desk, locating a pen and an old flyer to write on the back of. Trinket read it to me twice, making sure I got it and let me hang up only after I promised to come home that night. It was sort of nice having someone worry about me. I picked up the receiver and dialed again. Lance returned with a fresh, steaming mug of creamy brown coffee and a piece of buttered toast. I gave him a little air kiss of appreciation as he left, still determined to give me privacy. I sipped the coffee, which sent a flush of warmth right down to my bare toes. Dante’s always has really good coffee. I think they import it.
Hamilton answered his phone on the fifth ring.
“Detective Hamilton,” he said. The poor man sounded like he’d had no sleep at all. I should have called him last night, but I’d been totally exhausted and it slipped my mind.
“It’s Cassandra. I’m alright. I’m fine,” I said, throwing my answers at him before he too jumped down my throat with worry.
“Jeez Cassandra, what the hell happened? One minute I hear you shout my name. The next, you’re gone and all that’s left is scraps of your clothing and your personals.”
“My phone, wallet and keys?”
“Yes, I have them. They’re fine. That’s what concerns you in this situation.” I heard other voices in the back ground responding to his tone. Hamilton slowly distanced himself from them. The noise died down to nothing.
“I’ve just stepped into the hall,” he said, “now tell me what happened.” I took another, quick sip of coffee.
“Solomon’s been a very naughty boy. His bodyguard is his dark wizard. He confessed to killing both the wife and the lawyer.”
“Solomon did?” Hamilton sounded confused.
“No, the bodyguard. I went up to the roof where he cornered me because, get this, he’s my stalker.”
“The bodyguard?”
“Yes. I had to do something pretty drastic to get away from him; hence, the clothes left behind.”
“Where are you now?”
“The office at Dante’s. I spent the night here. I’d have called sooner but I bottomed out, energy wise, and fell right to sleep.”
“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said sounding genuinely relieved.
“So can we arrest them? Solomon and his bodyguard? He told me that Solomon gave him the orders to. Isn’t that conspiracy? Can you get him some time for that?” Hamilton sighed.
“There’s a little hiccup in your plan I’m afraid. Can you come back to Solomon’s? I have your affects in my car.” I felt a little puzzled. Why was he back at Solomon’s? Did he figure out he was guilty already, or did he go back to find me?
“I can be there in a half hour. Is that okay? Or will it be too late?”
“No, that’s fine. We’re not going anywhere.”
With that cryptic remark, he hung up. I leaned back in Jareth’s chair, drinking my coffee and chewing on the toast. I began to get this awful feeling in the pit of my belly that something was wrong. I would leave Aram a note so when he woke, he wouldn’t worry about where I had gone to. This was how Lance found me, rooting through papers on his boss’s desk.
“Miss Cassandra, have you lost something?” he asked desperately, trying to keep the condemnation from his voice. I looked up.
“A piece of note paper or something to write on.” I’d already tucked the flyer with Hamilton’s number on it into my pants pocket. Lance walked towards a printer, opened a drawer underneath and removed a fresh, clean sheet from the pile stacked inside. I stopped rooting instantly.
“Here,” he said, as if the printer should have been the first place I checked. It would have been, if I hadn’t thought Jareth has so much paper on his desk there has to be a blank sheet somewhere and I won’t have to get up. I took the paper from him, folded it neatly in half, and then scrawled on one side –
Gone to help the police. Thank you for last night. I will call you. Cassandra x
I let the little kiss after my name be the only endearment. I didn’t want to give him any false hope that we were a couple again. I still couldn’t decide if that was what I wanted. I know to most guys that would make me seem indecisive and unreliable, but Aram was hanging in there. I missed him a great deal and last night had been very comforting to me. It might sound very feminine of me, but there was no place I liked better than wrapped up in the arms of a man I loved.
I took my little note back to his room and propped it up under the lamp. He’d be sure to see it there when he woke up. I brushed his boyish curls away from his peaceful face and lightly pressed my lips to his temple. His skin was cool and smooth. He wasn’t as cold as he had been, so he was probably only an hour from waking. I left him to his dreams, if he had them, and securing an umbrella from the lost and found, went out into the misting rain.
Chapter Fourteen
When I got to Solomon’s building, two uniformed officers wouldn’t let me in. My identification was locked in Hamilton’s car and I did look a bit messy. My hair was damp and frizzled by the same rain that made my shirt wet and almost transparent. I was thankful to be wearing the little camisole underneath and did not appreciate the officers’ stares towards my chest. I walked down the block to a payphone and dialed his number on reverse charges. Hamilton said he would be right down. I walked back up to huddle under my umbrella next to his car. My feet were soaked from the pelting rain and several puddles on the way over. October was not thong sandal weather.
Hamilton darted out of the building. The rain plastered his hair to his head, and he sought the shelter of my umbrella.
“Hey,” he said with his usual winsome, charming smile. “You look good in men’s clothes.” A small smiled curve my lips as I took that for a compliment, thanking the powers that be he hadn’t said you look good wet.
“Thank you. My things.” Hamilton nodded hitting the little fob on his keychain. The doors clicked and he opened the passenger side for me. He’d made a neat, little pile of my belongings on the seat with my shoes in the foot well. I pocketed my phone, wallet and keys, and clipped my identification to my shirt as best I could before handing the umbrella to Hamilton so I could sit. I took off the sandals and used my destroyed top to dry my feet; it was ruined anyway. I put my boots on and left the sandals in their place. Hamilton relocked the car when I was done and we went back inside together. This time the uniforms had no problem letting me through and were even apologetic. I think because they’d ogled the goodies of another professional.
Hamilton shook out the umbrella and placed it by the door to drip while I pushed the button for the elevator. I also did a quick heat spell to dry out my shirt so it didn’t look like I’d been in some sorority wet t-shirt competition. The elevator carriage was still on the ground floor and Hamilton had to rush to get inside.
“So what’s going on?” I asked him once we were safely ascending to the top floor.
“After you vanished on his property and I couldn’t find you, I came back this morning with a warrant for a full search. I kept the finding of your torn up clothes on the street, on the low down.” He grinned at me and I felt my cheeks flame.
“Thank you for that. My modesty and I appreciate it. What did you find?”
“One of the guest bedrooms had been in use, but it’s been cleared out. No sign of Solomon or his bodyguard. I had to call for the building super to let me in.”
“What about his creepy manservant guy?”
“I talked to him about an hour ago. His day off apparently. However, he did tell me something useful.” I turned more towards Hamilton, leaning in to hear it like we were exchanging naughty gossip.
“When he left at about eleven last night, Solomon was not alone. He was having an argument with another man. Very low voiced, so he couldn’t make out what was being said, but it sounded hostile.”
“Maybe Solomon was telling him to lie low and Rin didn’t want to.” Hamilton blinked at me.
“What did you say?”
“The bodyguard, my stalker, he told me that his name is Rin.” Hamilton went very quiet for the rest of the trip up, which was mercifully short. I couldn’t work out if he was mad at me because he thought I’d been holding out information on him.
“Hamilton, I forgot about his name. I wasn’t holding out on you, I swear.” Hamilton stopped and shook his funk off.
“It’s not that. I’m just not feeling positive about our chances at finding him. At the moment, our biggest concern is where is Solomon? Why can’t we find him?”
“Did you find the cubby off the master bedroom closet?” Hamilton nodded.
“Yeah, creepy little dungeon. It seems Mrs. Solomon’s accusations weren’t quite that unfounded. Looks like he was also getting it ready for a new occupant.”
“When I found it, it just had some hooks and was bare.” Hamilton nodded his head in the direction of the bedroom.
“Take a look now. You’ll see what I mean.”
He let me peek in the secret room. It had changed since yesterday. Manacles and chains hung from the hooks, pillows were put into one corner and a large pail in the other. Solomon was getting another pet for himself, but where? The black magic market was shut down. I’d shut it down with a little police help. I came out of the room with a little shudder rolling down my body. No one deserved to be treated like that. Not like a wild animal.
“I’d like to punch the little prick in the face for woman kind everywhere.” Hamilton cracked a sly grin.
“You’re a real firecracker, anyone ever tell you that?”
“I do believe I have heard that before.” He signaled towards the living room with his thumb.
“We’re in here.” I followed him into the room and saw several people I didn’t know. They were all gathered around the large door that led to the personal bank vault of Philonius T Solomon. I leaned into Hamilton.
“Five bucks says it’s where he keeps his porn.”
“Call me an optimistic but I was hoping for a fortune in gold doubloons.” I smirked as Hamilton covered one eye and walked a few paces as if he had a peg leg.
“What do we have me hearties?”
A thin man if you could call someone who looks about twelve a man with thick-framed, black glasses and thick tuffs of blond hair looked our way.
“We drilled so I could get a cam in,” he said with a deep voice that didn’t match his appearance. “Its got glass plating, meaning we can’t just drill the lock.” He pointed to his screen and we both leaned in to look. The picture flickered a little and he hit the edge of the monitor.