Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Red and blue lights flashed over the freezing pavement. I sat on the curb with my knees pulled under my chin and tried not to think about it.

But the smell was all over me. That thick, metallic reek, blended with the aroma of roses.

This time, there had been no flowers. No thorns. Only petals—ripped out and scattered like in a honeymoon suite. My free dance dress was draped over the bed, covered in rose petals.

And soaked through with blood.

Animal blood, the Sochi City Police thought. Maybe cow or pig, from a butcher shop. A tasteless prank, certainly, but no one had been hurt. Nothing had been stolen either. Two officers stood and watched as Heath and I searched every compartment in every piece of luggage; all our possessions were there, undamaged, including Heath’s costume for the free dance. It was a shame about my pretty dress, but couldn’t I wear another one?

We tried to tell them about the rest of it, to explain the pattern, the escalation from the strange flowers to the wounds on the sole of my foot to this horror show in our hotel room. I quickly reached the limit of my patience, but Heath kept appealing in Russian to the cops, the night shift clerk, the hotel security guard, even a few other guests who’d ventured out to see what was causing all the commotion. None of them had witnessed anything suspicious.

“Seriously?” I said when he relayed this to me.

“So they say.”

“And the police, what are they going to—”

“What do you think?”

They weren’t going to do any more than the Olympic officials. Ask a few questions, write up a report, send us on our merry way.

Heath offered his hand to help me up. The pain in my foot thrashed like a live wire, searing the entire left side of my body. A ruined dress was the least of my problems. How the hell was I going to make it through the free dance like this?

“You’d better get some ice on that,” came a voice from behind us.

Ellis Dean stood under a streetlamp, looking uncharacteristically subdued in a black wool overcoat. He ambled toward us, hands in his pockets, casual as can be.

“How are you doing?” he asked. “I heard what happened.”

The Olympics were a glorified small town, and Ellis knew everyone. I was just surprised he’d managed to make it here fast enough to scoop the other media outlets.

“Ellis,” Heath said. “We’ve had a long day.”

“I just wanted to—”

“What, take a picture for your stupid blog?” I said. “Maybe a whole fucking slide show? Sorry I don’t have blood all over my face, I bet that would make the header image really pop.”

Ellis sighed and slipped something out of his pocket: a small black plastic card. Heath and I both looked at it like it might bite.

“The key to my hotel room,” Ellis said. “They have actual security there. And working deadbolts. And a pretty bomb breakfast buffet.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’m sleeping elsewhere tonight, and there’s no sense in letting a perfectly good room go to waste.”

“You got a hot date or something?”

“Did I mention the buffet?” Ellis waved the card back and forth. “Not one, not two, but three different kinds of blini.”

I stared at him until he rolled his head back with a groan.

“Fine, yes, I have a date. A certain silver fox with a golden voice may have invited me over for a vodka martini nightcap.”

I made a face. “You and Kirk ?”

“He’s old enough to be your father,” Heath said.

“Which makes him the perfect age to be my daddy. ” Ellis waggled his well-groomed eyebrows. “And I don’t want to keep him waiting, so could you two please set aside your pride and accept this gesture of simple human kindness before I change my mind?”

I glanced at Heath. His posture was tense, but he didn’t protest. Wherever Ellis was staying, it had to be an improvement on the actual crime scene that awaited us inside.

“You know, Ellis,” I said. “You’re a pretty good guy when you want to be.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He slapped the keycard into my palm. “You better not tell anyone, bitch.”