Page 65 of Speak of the Devil

But the outfit also seemed to signal that she didn’t have any real demands on her time today — at least, not from her clients or at the office, which he thought could only be a good thing. Although they’d done what they could to make sure his house was impervious to any further demon attacks, he’d never been in a situation like this before and wasn’t sure what might be next.

He definitely didn’t care for that feeling.

“No,” Delia replied, confirming his suspicions about her schedule. “It’s a pretty light week.”

She didn’t sound very concerned. But then, why should she? Thanks to the sale of the Pueblo Street house closing so quickly, she’d already banked a nice, plump commission. She could take the rest of the month off if she wanted to.

However, he doubted she would do anything so indulgent. Maybe once upon a time she’d been a punk chick — or possibly,more post-punk — but she’d definitely morphed into a brisk, no-nonsense professional woman.

He didn’t say “good,” because he thought that might have sounded dismissive. “Okay. Then I suppose our next step is trying to figure out who’s sending these demons after me.”

Delia nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I had a friend of mine who’s a private detective look into Robert Hendricks, but she didn’t find anything suspicious. He seems like a regular guy — a successful one, sure, but there’s no crime in that.”

“A P.I.?” Caleb responded, and couldn’t help grinning. “You have all kinds of connections, don’t you?”

“I do,” she said serenely, although something flickered in her eyes as she made the reply. During that telltale moment, brief as it was, he realized this was how she must have discovered his real name and his past in Greencastle. He couldn’t even be angry about that, not when telling her the truth about himself was the very reason why she’d stayed on as his agent. She added, “Pru was the bassist in my band, and we’ve stayed friends.”

A helpful friend to have. “Did she find anything else?”

“No.” A pause, and Delia added, “Well, except that Robert Hendricks’ casino and a bunch of others signed a consulting contract with some sort of private security firm called The Styx Group. Ever heard of them?”

He hadn’t, so he shook his head. But that name….

“They sound kind of dodgy.”

“My thought exactly,” she replied. “Pru tried digging into them, but she couldn’t find much. She’s not a hacker, though, so maybe someone else might be able to get more information on the company.” Delia’s green eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Don’t suppose you know anyone like that.”

Unfortunately, no. One of Michael Covenant’s associates had been some kind of computer hacker, but Caleb sort of doubtedthe man would be too enthusiastic about lending his services to someone he could only view as the enemy.

“Nope,” he said, not too bothered by their lack of resources on the hacking front. “It looks like we’re on our own with this one.”

Which was about what he’d expected. He’d only been in town for a couple of months and hadn’t formed any real connections during his time here, so he didn’t think Delia would find it too strange that he didn’t have any acquaintances or associates who could help out.

And since she was a native of Las Vegas and still didn’t have any computer hacker friends, he wasn’t going to beat himself up too badly about not being able to call in the digital cavalry.

“Does The Styx Group have offices here?” he asked, thinking they could at least try sniffing around in person if there wasn’t much to be found online.

She shook her head. “The website only lists an office in L.A. — on the Westside, I think, judging by the address.”

Caleb supposed that was slightly better than downtown, which was uncomfortably close to Pasadena, the city where Michael Covenant and Audrey Barrett…and Rosemary McGuire and Will Gordon…lived.

Still, he didn’t want to go anywhere near their orbit, which meant a reconnaissance of The Styx Group’s corporate offices probably wasn’t in the cards.

“Well, we won’t worry about that for now,” he said. “We don’t have any reason to believe they’re connected to this mess anyway.”

He went over to the couch and sat down, and Delia, who’d been hovering near the window this whole time, took the hint and seated herself on one of the chairs that faced the sofa.

“But whoisconnected to it?” she said softly. “You said these demons had to have been summoned, so who’s doing the summoning?”

A very good question. “Someone who knows what they’re doing,” he replied. “Contrary to what all those horror movies like to show, it’s not as easy to summon a demon as you might think. Especially when you consider this person started with imps and only ramped up to more destructive demons when they figured out they’d need to get some bigger guns if they wanted to take me down.”

Had that sounded too much like bragging? He hadn’t meant his comments to come across that way, but he supposed Delia might still interpret them in a negative light.

However, she only looked thoughtful, so it seemed she was too engaged in trying to get to the bottom of the problem to worry about his delivery.

“Someone who’s good at summoning demons,” she said in musing tones, then shook her head. “Las Vegas is full of palm readers and psychics, but I don’t think demon summoning is the sort of thing most people want to put on their shop window.”

Probably not. Her remark got him thinking, though. While he knew the vast majority of those psychics were complete fakes, there had to be one or two who were the real deal.

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