Page 14 of Fanged Desire
When the call pulled up to the curb, Ethan glanced my way. “You ready?”
Unable to muster a single syllable, a ghostly hand squeezing my throat, I simply nodded.Let’s just get this over with.
The cab was pulled up in front of an old apartment building in a part of town I usually avoided. The man we were meeting was waiting for us upstairs, one of Penelope’s return clients. He was fond of her, at least that’s what Ethan had told me, and regular enough to notice things.
Inside the building, we climbed a set of creaky stairs, dodging moths that fluttered around the lightbulbs, and Ethan knocked on the door to the apartment. After a few tense seconds it opened a crack, revealing a pale man in his forties. His eyes flickered between us with suspicion before landing on me, something like recognition passing over his face.
“Ethan, I presume?” The man opened the door wider, nodding to the both of us. “And you must be Penelope’s – ”
I stiffened at the mention of Penelope’s name, cutting him off briefly. “I’m here to ask a few questions. You knew her, right?”
He beckoned us in, and we ducked out of the warm glow of the lobby and into the apartment. The whole place smelled faintly of stale cigarettes, and the dim light made everything look washed out. The man motioned for me to sit on the worn couch but I remained standing, arms crossed, itching for answers.
“Yes, I knew Penelope. I was a regular,” the man said eventually, sinking into a chair across from us. “She was... a sweet girl. Had a lot going on, though.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, voice sharper than intended.
The man leaned back, sighing as if the memory was too much to bear. “It was clear she was struggling. Addiction, mostly – though I have no idea what she was taking. She tried to hide it, but I could tell. There were nights she’d be so strung out, I wondered if she even knew where she was.”
My heart clenched, and Ethan, already catching up with my train of thought, caught my eye. The friend with the addiction. It hadn’t been a friend at all. But I knew that. I knew it back then too, and I still put the phone down.Busy right now, talk later.
That was the last thing I ever said to her.
“She told me she had plans.” The man was speaking again and I shrugged off my swarming thoughts. “To get out of the business, to clean up. But then, one day, she was just... gone. No explanation. I asked around, but no one knew anything.Eventually, they told me she wasn’t coming back and offered to set me up with another dancer.”
“And that was it? No word from her?” Ethan pressed, his brow furrowed.
“Not a word. But...” The man hesitated, as if unsure whether he should say more. “There was one client who seemed... more interested than most. A woman. She’d book private sessions with Penelope, but it always felt like she was more interested in something else. Not the dance.”
Ethan straightened at that, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “I remember her. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but yeah. She was – intense? Anyway, do you remember anything else about her?”
The man shook his head. “Not much. Tall, well-dressed, always wore sunglasses, even at night. Weird thing was, she didn’t seem like the type to be there for the usual reasons. She was just... watching.”
Ethan and I exchanged hesitant glances. This was the first solid lead we’d gotten in weeks. But it wasn’t much to go on.
I turned to the man again, demanding in my desperation, “Do you know her name?”
“No.” The guy sighed, reaching into the wilted sofa cushions and tugging out a box of cigarettes. “I only ever saw her with Penelope. After Penelope disappeared I tried to speak to her, see if she knew where our favorite had gone off to. But she wasn’t the friendly type.”
I swallowed, trying in vain to push down the rising tide of guilt. I let this happen. I should have been paying more attention.
“Well, thank you.” Ethan spoke for me, standing up and shaking the man’s hand. “We appreciate the information.”
As we made our way out onto the sidewalk, Ethan tentatively touched my shoulder, like he was unsure whether a hug or afist bump would be more suitable for the occasion. “I’ll do some digging. See if I can figure out who this woman is.”
I nodded, but didn’t reply. My mind was still back in that apartment, replaying the man’s words. A strange client. Someone who had eyes only for Penelope. Who was she?
“You okay?” Ethan asked again, voice soft as he bumped my elbow with his own.
“I will be,” I muttered, pulling my coat tighter around myself. “For now, I need to keep dancing at the club. Maybe this woman will turn up again.”
Ethan gave me a long, hard look, but didn’t argue. We walked in silence, side-by-side, the first spattering of rain soaking into our clothes.
Every night I spent at the club was a chance to find the woman who had been so fixated on Penelope. And maybe, just maybe, that would lead us to the truth about what had happened that night. But until then, I would have to keep up the charade. The dancing, the flirting, the constant feeling that I was getting in too deep.
“Whatever it takes,”I whispered to the ghost, the only reassurance I could offer, “I’ll find you.”
Chapter 7
