The panther had left the building. I was getting more than a little fed up with these secretive shape-shifters and their cryptic messages.
I stared at the charm in my hand but hesitated to slip the steel chain over my head. Why? Because radio signal or not, I didn’t want my wearing Triton’s talisman to be an issue between Saber and me. Options. I needed options. I could stick the charm inside my bra. The old lady who had last owned Maggie’s Victorian house had spoken to her granddaughter about carrying mad money in her bra. Of course, at the time I’d still been buried in the forgotten basement, so I hadn’t understood what mad money was. Or what a bra was, for that matter.
I could put the charm and chain in a tiny plastic jewelry bag, and wear that inside my bra. Would plastic interfere with the signal?
The heck with options. I needed a decision.
I settled on putting the charm in a scrap of drapery material and fastened it with mini safety pins. There. That I could stuff in my bra. Place it under one boob, and Saber would never be the wiser. It was padded enough not to stick or scratch me, and just uncomfortable enough that I’d remember to remove it before Saber and I made love. Speaking of Saber, was he already home and on his computer looking up vampire GPS records? I glanced at the dolphin clock on my desk. Two in the morning. Probably not. He might still be at Ike’s club.
I wished I could help Saber investigate, but realized I could do some research on Jo-Jo’s would-be agent. That might be dull enough to lull my heartbeat back to normal.
After thirty minutes, I’d read all I could find on Vince Atlas in cyber land. He was, indeed, the real deal, and even represented some actors and actresses I’d heard of. A shocker since I watch mostly HGTV and classic TV shows and movies. There were Darlene Dickens and Jonathan Barlow, young stars of the new office comedy Time Card, and then there was Shane Steele. Shane was a hunka-hunka burning blond who’d appeared in two action movies I’d watched with Saber. If Jo-Jo decided to sign the contract with Vince—and I knew he would—he’d be in great company. 014
I awoke at three on Thursday afternoon, showered, and checked messages while I downed my daily Starbloods. Saber had called to tell me he’d contacted the attorney to look at Jo-Jo’s contract. Randy Tate’s office was just a mile from the Island Inn where Vince and his wife were staying. Saber didn’t report anything about the sniper, or his drop-in on Ike and company, but told me he’d see me later.
By four thirty, I’d finished running errands—Jo-Jo’s and my own—so I drove through Davis Shores checking out houses Saber might be interested in seeing. In the process, I found the neighborhood park Jo-Jo had mentioned. Except for a decorative well, the park was an expanse of grass lined with live oaks and palms. Here we’d spot a human sniper with one eye closed, but a vampire shooter was a wild card. I resolved to be more alert tonight, even with Pandora on the prowl. Traffic back across the temporary Bridge of Lions was heavy on Thursdays due to the summer concerts held in the Plaza de la Constitución. And, of course, the drawbridge delayed me, too. Which was all right. I had over three hours to change into my costume, and I might just stop in at the concert before my tour began. Music always lifts one’s spirits, right?