Cait cleared her throat. “His knees were bumping the bottom of the table. Scared himself silly. Guilty conscience got to him, I guess.”

Leland glared but gave her a nod. “Yeah. That’s the way I saw it too.”

Sylvia fluttered her fingers from behind Leland’s back, trying to get her attention.

Cait scratched her head. “I’m gonna hit the restroom. Be right back.”

Once inside the ladies’ room, she quickly searched the stalls to ensure privacy before rounding on Sylvia. “That was some trick.”

“Joor daddy showed me how. Said pure emotion can make it happen. Since I purely hate Oscar, piece o’ cake,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“You plan on sticking around here? Torture him some more?”

Sylvia shook her head. “I’ll be around. For when joo figure out how to send me back. Joor daddy said hi too. Says joo know where to find him if joo need to talk.” She yawned. “Need to rest. Payback takes a lot out of joo.”

In Sam’s car, heading to the hotel, Cait gave Sam the rundown of what had happened with Oscar.

Sam’s gaze didn’t leave the road, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Too bad we can’t put her on retainer.”

They parked on the street in front of the hotel and got out of the car.

Cait cocked her head, listening but hearing no whispers. She glanced up at the dumpy place. Old glass, yellowed, and in need of a good exterior cleaning. The marquee sign with its missing letters. Would anyone miss this place if it did burn to the ground? And how could she manage the destruction without ending up in prison herself, or getting someone hurt? There had to be another way.

“Nervous?”

“Of going inside?” She shook her head. “Just worried about how this will all end.”

“Can’t torch the place, if that’s what you’re thinking.” His gaze rose as well. “Not that anyone would miss this dump.”

Cait smiled. In some ways, they were on the same page. More alike than not, if she thought about it. They were both mulishly stubborn. Both kept their hearts cloaked behind brittle shields. And Sam had missed her every bit as much as she’d missed him during their long split.

The proof had been in the photographs. Even though they’d rushed through getting showered and dressed, with her climbing back into yesterday’s clothes because they didn’t have time to hit her apartment, she’d paused long enough to note the pictures. One of her on his nightstand, uncharacteristically smiling for the camera at her old desk in homicide. A picture of her and Sam, both wearing PD T-shirts at a family-day picnic. On Beale Street, standing under the red, white, and black Blues City Café sign. All happy moments. Always with a smile. Because they’d been so fleeting, she couldn’t remember the happy times as well as she could the sad.

Sam touched her elbow. “Look, you don’t have to come with me.”

Summoning a smile she didn’t feel, she met his questioning glance. “But then you couldn’t stay on my ass and make sure I don’t take rides in the elevator with demons.” She touched his sleeve. “You be careful too,” she added softly, then led the way inside.

Things were hopping. Two clerks staffed the front desk. New arrivals were being processed. Looked like business as usual. Odd in a place where numerous bodies had been dug out of the walls. Hadn’t these people read the newspapers?

Mr. Lewis, looking rested, his posture held straighter than on the previous days, walked toward them. “I need those rooms. We’re getting calls for bookings from as far away as California. Reservations. And they’re all requesting that floor. I’ve got repairmen lined up to fix the holes your people left as soon as you clear out.”

Cait eyed him, wondering if he was the demon. Then wondering why a demon couldn’t manage a more imposing figure.

“Sir, we’re working as fast as we can,” Sam said, his voice calm and firm.

Mr. Lewis’s gray brows bunched together over his faded eyes. “I’ve spoken to your director of police. He has assured me you’ll be out of here by tonight. There’s nothing more to be learned. You have your evidence. Your bodies.”

“Looks like all this fuss is good for business,” Cait murmured.

The old man’s glance was sharper than she expected, nearly making her take a step backward.

“Damn curiosity seekers. It’s all your fault. Letting that film crew up there. Staging that ridiculous display. It’s all over the Internet.”

Cait’s stomach dropped, wondering whether the crew had posted everything they had. She was particularly worried about the part where she appeared to be talking to herself. Leland wouldn’t be pleased because then he’d have to defend his decision to hire a crazy person.

Sam’s hand touched the small of her back, and he ushered her forward. “We’ll get back with you before we leave. Give you an estimate of how much longer we’ll be.”

“You do that,” Mr. Lewis called after them. “But don’t be surprised if the plug gets pulled for you.”

In the elevator, Sam shot her a glare. “Leland’s going to put that all on you.”

For a split second, Cait closed her eyes. “Don’t forget, you were there too. Right beside me, while I was talking to the air. You’re gonna look like you’re as big a flake as I am.”

“Dammit, Cait. Why didn’t you sit on those guys?”

Her teeth ground before she spoke. “Because you kicked me off the case.” But the erstwhile TV crew had been the least of her worries.

The door to the Reel PIs room was propped wide open.

Cait glanced inside to find the space teeming with black T-shirted dorks, the Reel PIs logo prominent on their chests.

Clayton gave her a cheerful wave. “We’re a hit,” he shouted over the din. “Discovery and The CW have called.”

At Cait’s frown, he rushed over. “Don’t worry, Cait. I edited bits. Just aired the part where we’re running down the hall, and the swirling vortex. Doesn’t mean I won’t want to interview you for that episode.”

Cait didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or grimace. “Really think it’s going to happen? A TV show?”

“We’ve had more than three hundred thousand hits since we posted this morning. That was Mina’s idea. I didn’t want to give away anything until we had the clips edited. But she said what with the case making the major networks and the story plastered all over the newspapers, the time to strike was now.”

Sam’s hand clamped hard on one side of her hip. “I’m glad for you,” he growled. “But how the hell did all these folks get in here?”

Clayton waggled his eyebrows. “All crew members of Reel PIs, Inc., were cleared for admittance. These guys had to buy our T-shirts. Walked right past the cops.”

Cait and Sam shared a glance. She pressed her lips together to keep from congratulating him on his chutzpah.

Sam shook his head, a dire warning in his darkened glare. “I’d better check that hall. Make sure no one slipped past. We don’t want any more excitement.” His hand dropped from her side.

“What the hell is goin’ on here?” Leland’s voice rang imperiously from the doorway.

Cait pursed her lips. Shit was about to hit the fan. With an effort, she cleared her expression and turned.

His cheeks were florid, and both fists curled at his sides. “I want everyone out of here now!”

Sam went to the door, standing there as folks trailed out.

Cait indicated to Clayton that he, Booger, and Mina should stay put.

When the last of their fans exited, she faced Leland, schooling her expression and wincing inside.

He drew a deep breath, staring daggers straight at her. “It’s all over the damn Internet. Director’s on my ass to get this thing sewn up tight.” He turned to Sam. “You’re the one in charge here. How the hell did that footage get leaked?”

“It’s my fault. I didn’t confiscate their recordings.” A muscle in Sam’s jaw ticked.

Clayton cleared his throat. “Sir, we’re within our rights—”

Leland’s head swiveled sharply. “This is a goddamn crime scene. Already had an earful from the manager downstairs. Told him he’d get his hotel back when I was good and ready to release it.”