The Disciple and Other Stories of the Paranormal (3 page)

HOTTER THAN HELL

“
I don’t handle the cold
well,” she said.

“
I can see that.” I could.
The woman sitting across from me was bundled up like it was the
dead of winter – parka, scarf, beret, earmuffs, gloves, and boots –
yet she was still shivering.

Admittedly, the air conditioning was
blasting. Then again, it was the middle of summer in Phoenix,
Arizona, meaning it was hotter than hell outside. But she’d come in
dressed like this.

“
I know you can’t make it
warmer.”

“
Nope. Not unless I want a
small riot.” I might have been the boss, but when you’re running a
successful firm, you aren’t doing it alone. I knew what would
happen if I turned the A/C down. “I keep it on the warmer side,
though. My girls prefer it that way.”

Warmer, of course, meant it was cooling to
70 degrees instead of 64. But there was only so “warm” the men who
worked for me could take. Higher or lower wouldn’t make for a happy
staff, and they were more important than one client.

“
I’m sure you do. It’s not
a problem. I’m used to it.” She had big blue eyes, and curly hair
the color of dried blood framed her face, but when the light caught
it, there were glimmers of golden highlights.

It was hard to be positive, but she didn’t
look like she was waif-thin underneath her layers. I studied her
face and put her at the slightly voluptuous, heading toward the
charmingly chubby side of the house.

“
So, how can I help
you?”

She sighed. “I’m looking for someplace very
hot.”

“
You’ve found
it.”

She shook her head. “No, Mister Masters, I
haven’t. Oh, I heard the rumors that Phoenix was hotter than Hell.
While the weather is pleasant outside, it’s not hot enough for
me.”

“
Medical
condition?”

“
You could call it
that.”

“
You should see a doctor,
then.”

“
My condition is innate,
and not life-threatening. Merely…uncomfortable. No, I’m looking for
someplace that truly is hotter than Hell, and I was hoping you
could help me to find it.”

“
You need a travel agent,
not a P.I.”

“
I tried that. I’ve been
all over the world, and all I’ve gotten is several different and
interesting forms of cold or flu. No, I need someone who can
actually find hidden things. Your reputation says you’re the best
private investigator available. I heard that in both Los Angeles
and New York. So, here I am.”

My reputation wasn’t overstated. However,
I’d gotten it by being able to get rid of the crazies. “I’m sorry,
but my caseload is full.” I stood. “Let me walk you out.”

She laughed, and it was, I had to admit, a
very pleasant, enticing sound. “I’m not crazy, Mister Masters. I’ll
pay you well, even if you can’t find what I need, though I’ll pay
you more if you can.” She opened the backpack at her feet and
pulled out a wad of cash. “Here – as a retainer.”

Against my better judgment, I took it. “Old
bills.” Some of them looked like they’d seen far better days. More
than a couple had stains that matched her hair. Most were tens and
twenties, so it took me a few minutes to straighten the bills out,
stack, and count them. They totaled a thousand dollars. “Where’d
you get these?”

“
Daddy likes to hold on to
old things, some for sentimental value. He also doesn’t trust
banks. So…” She shrugged. “All the bills are legal tender. Take
that money as a retainer and we have a deal. Return it and I go to
your most potent rival and give him the opportunity.”

This wasn’t an idle threat. One of my best
investigators had gone off on his own a couple of years ago. He was
giving me a run for it. A client tossing this kind of cash around
was always good for ensuring your bills were paid, crazy or not.
“Fine, I’ll take your case, Missus…”

She laughed again. “Oh, I’m not married.
Daddy says I’m too young yet, and besides, I haven’t met Mister
Right. I’m Ruby Prince.” She pulled off her glove and put out her
hand.

I took it. It was warm – not freezing or
overly hot, as I’d expected. “Nicholas Masters. Feel free to call
me Nick.”

She brightened. “That’s one of Daddy’s
nicknames. I like it.”

“
Your father has more than
one nickname?”

“
Oh yes. He’s very popular
and has a lot of friends. They all call him something different. He
likes it, makes him feel more beloved.”

“
You have a good
relationship with your father?”

Her eyes clouded. “Yes. Though I haven’t
seen him in a while.” She shook herself. “What do we need to do to
get started?”

“
I’d like a listing of
what, precisely, you’re looking for, a listing of where you’ve
already gone that hasn’t met your standards, and any other
pertinent or relevant information, even if it’s on the fringes of
being relevant.”

She nodded. “I’ll go to my hotel and work on
that right away.”

“
You could do it here. I
find many times that it helps, you and me, if we do this sort of
work together.” This was true, to a point. But I was asking her to
stay more because I was finding her fascinating, in her way. I
wanted to know more about her, especially about her relationship
with her father and who he was. Professionally, of
course.

She cocked her head. “I can’t stay here too
much longer. It’s just too cold. If you don’t mind being very warm,
you could come back to my hotel with me and we could do the work
there.”

Every movie and detective novel said that
this was a bad idea. I smiled. “Let me tell my assistant I’ll be
gone the rest of the day.”

Ruby was staying at the Phoenician. Whoever
her father was, he was loaded. Her room was, as expected, broiling
hot. We got in, and she heaved a sigh of relief and began removing
layers.

She finally stopped, revealing the figure
I’d expected. She was in a long-sleeved sweater dress that hugged
her curves. They were old-fashioned curves, very womanly, and I
found myself staring.

Ruby smiled at me. “Daddy believes that
women should look like women.”

“
I agree with your
father’s viewpoint.”

She laughed again, and this time the sound
traveled into my gut. I wanted her, and I wanted her now.

She sat down at the desk in her suite, got a
pen and paper, and started writing. “What do you want to know?”

“
How old are you?” Out of
the parka, she looked younger than I’d been assuming.

Ruby looked up at me, eyes twinkling. “Old
enough to do whatever I want, and young enough to not always do the
right thing. Why? How old are you?”

“
Thirty-two.”

“
That’s young to be as
successful as you are.”

“
I’m driven.”

“
I guess you are.” She
leaned back. “My mother passed away a few years ago. Daddy still
misses her. He’s not happy that I’m traveling, but he understands
why. I’m an only child. I was spoiled but not rotten. I like
animals, most people seem interesting, but I don’t have any close
friends here – all my friends are back home.”

“
Where is back
home?”

She looked sad. “Far, far away.” Ruby looked
back at the paper on her desk. “What about you? What does Missus
Masters do to pass the time?”

“
I’m not married. I don’t
have a girlfriend, either.” I now felt like an idiot. My libido,
however, felt like it was being tortured.

Ruby looked back at me. “Oh? Why not?”

“
I’m not considered
great-looking.” I also wasn’t used to sharing things like this with
anyone, let alone a client. Ruby wasn’t doing anything that I could
tell, but there was some kind of voodoo being worked on
me.

“
Really? I think you’re
quite handsome. Then again, I like men with widow’s peaks, a
moustache, and a Van Dyke beard. You’re handsome in a rather
old-fashioned way, which I find quite appealing.”

I sat down in the chair on the other side of
the desk. “Good to know.”

“
That can’t be the only
reason you’re single.”

“
It’s not. I’m too
suspicious. I don’t trust people’s motives, and I’m usually right
not to. That puts a strain on relationships.”

“
I’m sure it must. That
won’t bother me, however, so I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Are you all right?”

I swallowed. “I’m feeling hot in here.” I
was. I was in a suit and sweating, though I had to admit this had
more to do with lust than temperature.

She shrugged. “Take your clothes off.”

“
Excuse me?”

“
Strip down to something
acceptable where you’re a little more comfy. I’m used to people
having to do that around me.”

“
I can’t.” I couldn’t. By
now I was fully erect, and if I stood up, let alone undressed, I
was going to rape her. I didn’t know what was wrong with me – I
didn’t rape women, I didn’t force myself on them; I barely knew
her, and while she was attractive, there was nothing about her that
was giving me a logical reason for why I wanted her so
badly.

She looked a little closer at me. “Oh. I’m
sorry. That happens sometimes. I don’t mean for it to, but it
does.” She bit her lip and a growl escaped me. “Well, nothing for
it.” She stood up and reached her hand to me. “I like you. I know
you don’t really like me yet, but I need your help.”

“
What?”

She took my hand, pulled me up, and then
pulled me to the bed. “You’ll feel better, and more normal,
afterwards. I promise.”