We didn’t even know how or why she’d gone missing yet.
A couple of seconds later, Jayne popped out through the door again. “Anybody have a flashlight? It’s pretty dark in here.” She looked at me. “I don’t know how your mom did this in the dark.”
“Zombies have excellent night vision,” I said. “And what about the flashlight on your phone?”
She made a little perturbed face. “The battery died. I forgot to charge it before we left for the store, then I used up the last of it taking pictures for my dad and uncle.”
“Here, take mine,” Birdie said as she dug into her purse. She found it and held the phone out. “You should have a way to reach us anyway. In case…just in case.”
“Thanks.” Jayne took the phone and went back into the passage.
I couldn’t just stand there and wait. I got my own phone out, turned on the flashlight and started looking around the area near the cushion.
There was nothing on the floor that seemed unusual. Birdie and Jack, who’d been remarkably silent, helped me look.
Then Jack straightened. “Don’t take this the wrong way, son, but is there any reason your mother would want to disappear?”
I almost snapped, but I knew he meant well. “No. They were very happily married.”
Birdie pursed her lips. “That’s a good question. And one the police will ask.”
I shook my head. “We can’t engage the police. They won’t understand my dad’s magic. And the fact that my mother is an actual zombie.”
She didn’t look convinced. “But if there’s foul play involved—”
“I understand, but it’s my dad’s call.”
“Sinclair, I know these are your parents, but in nearly half of all domestic cases, the husband is to blame.”
I straightened and gave her a hard look. “Do you really think my father is involved in this?”
She frowned. “No. Anson is a good man who clearly adores your mother. Just getting to know them over the course of the wedding was enough to teach me that. But the odds are the odds for a reason.”
“Not in this case they aren’t.”
Jack nodded. “He does seem to love her dearly. And she him. Say, you mentioned not being able to go to the police because of your dad’s magic, but this ice block trick didn’t really seem to incorporate much of your dad’s illusion ability. He said so himself. It was all tricks and trapdoors and secret passageways.”
I hesitated, thinking. “You’re right. And that’s generally not how my parents do things. I need to ask my dad about that.”
The trapdoor above us opened, and my dad and Jayne peeked through. “Come on up,” she said.
“On our way.”
As soon as we met them on the stage, I started in with questions for my father. “How many times have you practiced this trick?”
“Enough to perfect it,” my dad answered. “But not as many times as we have some of the others. That’s because of the ice. It takes so long to make those blocks, and we were eager to debut it.”
“About that. Why use so little of your own magic to do this trick? Real ice? Mom actually going through a passageway to get back into the theater? Most of the rest of your tricks are all your own illusions. Actual magic. Not smoke and mirrors.”
My father sighed. “Part of that is out of necessity. The trick was inspired by our visit to the North Pole, as you know. But creating the block of ice as an illusion just wasn’t as impressive. It didn’t look right, no matter how many times I tried it, no matter how many ways I practiced it. There was also the matter of logistics and keeping things real for the sake of our cover. Suddenly having a block of ice on stage that hadn’t been manufactured for us would be hard to explain.”
“I get that,” I said. They employed a vast number of stagehands. At least one of them would wonder how that block of ice just appeared.
“The rest is my doing. Right before we came to see you in the North Pole, Xavier from the Dove and Wand called to tell me he had a rare book come in. A book supposedly from Martin Beck’s library.” He looked at Birdie and Jack. “Beck was Harry Houdini’s manager.”
They both nodded, instantly understanding.
“Of course, I had to have the book, so I bought it the same day he called. It was fascinating. Many early escapes were detailed, including a few I’d never heard about or seen performed before.” He took a breath. “It inspired me to do some actual non-magical magic. Old-school stuff. Your mom agreed. And so, thanks to that book and the trip to the North Pole, the ice block was born.”
“I see.” My father had always admired the history of the art of illusions. “Who built the trapdoor and the tunnel?”
“The stage manager had the trapdoor built, but the tunnel’s been there. Not sure what it was used for before us. Probably other magic acts? This theater has housed a lot of different shows. The Oasis has been here since 1963.”
Jayne turned toward my dad. “Could you use your magic to get her back?”
He shook his head slowly. “I wish I could. The best way I can explain it is that my conjuring, when it comes to moving people and things, works like Star Trek’s transporter beam. I need coordinates.”
“Oh, right,” Jayne said. “I remember when you came to the North Pole. You needed longitude and latitude.”
“That’s right. With a new place, that’s how it works. Now, I could conjure myself into my dressing room or out to the lobby or even back to the house, but those are all places I am intimately familiar with.” He looked at me. “Without knowing where your mother is, I’m helpless.”
“We’ll find her,” Jayne said.
He swallowed. “This is my fault. I could have easily conjured your mother out of that ice and into the lobby, but I was so enamored with the idea of following in the footsteps of the greats that I wanted to do without.”
Birdie frowned. “We really need to call the police. The first forty-eight hours are the most crucial.”
My dad ran a hand through his hair. He looked utterly destroyed. “I know that’s what’s usually done, but how do I explain to them that she’s actually a zombie? That her look isn’t makeup?”
“We can worry about that when they find her,” Birdie said.
He stared despondently at nothing. “But I’m also going to have to explain how she went missing despite the fact that an entire audience saw her onstage.”
Birdie looked around the theater. “Can you say it was just a projection of her?”
“I could, but if they ask to see the projection equipment or the film used, I have nothing to show them.”
“Hmm.” She sighed. “I guess the same would be true for telling them it was a body double.”
Jack frowned. “Telling the truth won’t work. But making up a plausible explanation could backfire as well. Maybe you shouldn’t call the police after all.”
My father pinched the bridge of his nose. “If someone did this… If someone took her…” Emotion choked off his words.
“We’ll find her, Dad.” But that was just a platitude. I didn’t know how that was going to happen. Not without any clues.
Sad that the best we could hope for was a ransom note.
My father cleared his throat. “Lila won’t like it, but I’ll need to call the show manager and tell him until she returns, we have to go dark.” He looked like he might be sick.
“Why wouldn’t she like that, Dad? You don’t have a choice.”
“No, I don’t. But if the show goes dark for more than three days, we’re in breach of contract.”
Jack huffed out a breath. “Even for something like this? They have to understand the circumstances.”
“I’m sure they would, but if I tell them Lila’s missing, the next question will be what are the police doing about it.”
“And you can’t call the police,” Birdie said. “So you just have to go dark and risk breaking your contract?”
My father nodded. “But what does it matter? There is no show wi
thout Lila.” A deep, shuddering exhale left his body. “There is no me without Lila.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jayne
My heart was breaking for Sin’s dad. He seemed absolutely shattered. I could imagine. If Sin suddenly disappeared, I was sure I’d feel the same way.
Lila was a kind, dear, sweet woman. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother-in-law, and I hated how useless I felt.
More than that, I was desperately worried for her. None of us had any idea what had happened to her, and searching the tunnel hadn’t provided a single clue. At least nothing I’d picked up on, and I’d looked hard.
While Sin comforted his father, Birdie came up to me. “Do you think I could fit in that tunnel?”
I did my best to be diplomatic. “Maybe. But it’s not the roomiest of spaces.”
One corner of her mouth hitched up in a repressed smile. “Not me like this. My wolf form.”
“Oh!” I nodded. “Definitely. You think you can find something I didn’t?”
“Not sure. I mostly want to see if I can sniff out her trail. I know you’ve already been through it, but since you didn’t find anything I thought—”
“No, go, it’s the best idea I’ve heard so far.”
Anson looked over. “What is?”
“Sending Birdie through the tunnel in her wolf form to track Lila.” I did my best to sound as optimistic as I felt. Birdie’s tracking abilities were excellent. And Anson needed something to cling to. We all did. “It’s worth a shot, right?”
Sin nodded. “Absolutely.”
Birdie looked at Sin’s dad. “Anson, do you have something of Lila’s that I could get a strong scent read off of?”
“Yes. I know just the thing. I’ll be right back.” He rushed off, returning shortly with a bedazzled jean jacket. “She wears this to practice almost every day.”
Birdie held the jacket to her nose and inhaled, her eyes shining with the wolf inside her. Then she nodded and handed it back to Anson. “Perfect. I can smell her perfume but also the deeper, more personal scent that’s uniquely her. I’ve got what I need.”
“What now?” he asked as he took the jacket back.
Birdie looked around. “Are we alone? I’d hate for a human to see me shift.”
“Probably,” Anson said. “There might be a few stagehands left, but they’d all be in the back.”
“All right. You four go wait for me in the lobby. I’ll need someone to open the door to the booth so I can get out. No thumbs, you know.”
“Understood,” Anson said. “I’ll open the door as soon as we get there. The light might help a little too.”
“Good.” She handed me her purse. “Hold on to this?”
“Sure thing.” I took the bag and tucked it under my arm. “Hey, what about the door to the secret tunnel?”
“It’s still open,” Sin answered. “I didn’t close it after you went through.”
“Good enough,” Birdie said. A shimmer of magic and a few seconds later, a wolf took Birdie’s place. She trotted over to the trapdoor and stepped on it.
Her weight opened the door and dropped her through. A small whimper was followed by a little woof, then nothing.
I hoped Birdie hadn’t hurt herself, but the noises sounded more like surprise and exhaling than pain.
“To the lobby,” Anson said.
We hustled off the stage and through the theater. I hoped that my scent in the tunnel wouldn’t throw anything off. I wished we’d sent Birdie through first, just to make sure I didn’t muddle anything up. I knew a werewolf’s tracking ability was keen, but we didn’t need anything else to go wrong.
Anson went straight to the booth I’d come out of earlier. The door was artfully concealed to look like one the lobby’s decorative panels. He pushed on it, and it popped open. The mouth of the tunnel looked darker than I remembered.
As we stood there waiting, Sin grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. I squeezed back. The air was thick with the hope and tension of the moment. Jack’s brows were furrowed. No one said a word.
Before long, we heard the scrabbling of talons.
“Birdie.” Jack breathed out the word like he was relieved to hear her coming. Had he been concerned something would happen to her in the tunnel?
Wolf Birdie appeared, nostrils working, eyes bright. She paid no attention to us as she slowed, taking just enough steps to move her out of the booth and into the lobby.
We moved out of her way to let her do her thing. She lifted her snout into the air as if searching. She must have found enough of a scent trail because she took off again, this time across the lobby and to another wall panel.
She scratched at it, pawing insistently.
“Is this another secret passage? Where does this lead?” Sin asked.
Anson shook his head. “It’s not anything. It used to be an emergency handicap exit, but when the Oasis remodeled, that all got changed and this was boarded up.”
Birdie whined, almost dancing from paw to paw with eager energy.
“Are you sure? Birdie seems to think Mom’s trail goes through there. We need to open it,” Sin said. “Maybe with that sledgehammer you used on the ice.”
“No need. Step back. You too, Birdie.” As we moved, Anson held his hands out, his concentration visibly increasing. There was a little cracking of wood, then suddenly, the panel popped open very much like the booth door had. “Hmm. That didn’t take as much effort as I thought it would.”
There was very clearly a hallway on the other side.
Birdie took off through the opening, her talons scratching on the concrete. We followed down the sloped passage. It was easy to see that it had once been an emergency exit. The red EXIT signs with their dual spotlights still remained to illuminate the corridor should the power go out.
Birdie ran down the incline and made the turn. Keeping our eyes on her, we rounded the hundred-and-eighty-degree bend and went down the last ramp. At last, we came to a stop behind her.
Based on the work trucks and shuttle vans, we were standing in one of the Oasis Resort’s service garages. Maybe one that was only used for parking disabled vehicles, because there wasn’t any activity. The smell of oil and fuel lingered faintly in the air, but the few shuttle vans that were present had a layer of dust on them like they hadn’t been used in some time.
Birdie shifted back to her human form and turned to face us. “Lila’s trail ends here. Abruptly.”
“Meaning?” Anson asked.
“Meaning there’s a good chance she got into a vehicle. I can’t tell for sure because there are so many other scents down here. Exhaust and gasoline and all that.” She shook her head. “Sorry.”
Anson stared at Birdie like he hoped she had answers. “Are you saying she just left? Why would she do that? Where would she go?”
“What I’m saying is I don’t think she left under her own power.” Birdie glanced at the passageway. “For an exit that’s been closed off, I also picked up the strong scent of a man’s cologne in there.” Regret filled her gaze, and she sighed. “I think Lila might have been abducted. Pretty sure, actually. I’m sorry.”
Anson stared at her. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. His breathing took on a ragged edge. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Does she have any enemies?” Birdie asked.
“No.” Anson spat the word out like it was unthinkable. “Everyone loves Lila. She’s kind and generous and a friend to everyone. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.”
“Dad,” Sin said. “I think whoever did this might have done it to hurt you.”
“Or to ruin your career. Or destroy your show.” Birdie’s expression changed ever so slightly. “Lila might not have any enemies, but do you?”
A dark glint shone in his eyes, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “A better word would be rival.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sinclair
I didn’t wait for my father to say the name I knew was coming.
Instead I said it for him. “Tony Tortellini.” If that second-rate magician had done this, he was going to pay. “He better not have hurt her. That idiot. I will find a way to make him pay.”
“You don’t know it’s him,” my dad said. Then he made a face. “But he’d be my first bet too. Not that he’s ever come off like the kind of guy who might do this.”
Jack snorted. “That’s exactly the kind of guy who might do this. The one you least expect.”
“That would be him.” My dad threw his hands up. “But who else?”
Jayne caught my attention with a look, making me ask, “You want to go talk to him?”
I knew my wife well enough to know she didn’t mean talk. She meant go snoop around his property and see if there was any sign of my mom or anything odd going on. “He’s not going to be keeping her at his house. If he did do it.”
Birdie crossed her arms. “Give me everything you have on him, and with enough time on my laptop, I can give you a list of everything he owns. If he took her, you’re right that he won’t keep her at his home. That wouldn’t be smart. Assuming he’s a smart guy, he’ll keep her somewhere secure and low-key.”
Jack grunted at Anson. “This guy is your competition?”
My father nodded. “He’s the headliner at the Crystal Palace. Comedy magic is popular, but his Impastable Magic comes in second to Dead Sexy every year in revenue.” He paused like he was thinking. “You know, if there was ever a night for him to disrupt the show, the debut of our new trick would be the one.”
“That makes me think,” Jack continued. “If this guy is local and well-known, would he really have done this himself? Seems like a big risk to take. He’d be recognized.”
“Good point,” I said. “Except he could have worn a disguise. At the opening of his act, he actually comes out looking like an old man, so it’s not that far of a stretch. Or he got someone to do the job for him, which is more likely.”
Lost in Las Vegas Page 8
