Five Deaths of Roxanne Love: A Page a Day (17)

[Continued: To start at the beginning click here.]

“What?” she breathed. “What is—”

The first of the bugs hit the window with a squelching pop, and Roxanne screamed, jumping back. Greenish-brown goo splattered out from the point of impact, but she barely had a moment to register it before more slammed into the glass. Hundreds of them peppered it like bullets, leaving behind a nauseating smear of guts and gore. Each impact sent her back another jerky step until she bumped into the bar.

“Why are they doing that?” she demanded to keep from screaming again. She wanted to cover her eyes and ears, but fear of not seeing kept her from doing either one.

“Fuck,” Sal yelled. “Look at the ceiling.”

She tore her gaze away only to see that the stain above had thickened into a slick black ooze. It looked like an upside-down oil spill on a choppy sea. Soon it would reach the bar and the kitchen. And the stench . . . Damp and foul. Rotten eggs in a steamy soup.

The blackness began to drip, and Roxanne fought down another scream.

“Reece! Reece, get out here!” she shouted instead, just as a loud crash came from the kitchen.

“Reece!”

Santo turned, his gaze unerringly finding hers. The look he gave her spoke volumes, but she couldn’t understand what it meant. She couldn’t understand what was happening. The bugs had completely obscured the windows, the live ones crawling over the splattered remains, trying to get in. She felt the blood drain from her face. Could they? Would they find a way? 

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Five Deaths of Roxanne Love: A Page a Day (16)

[Continued: To start at the beginning click here.]

The detective pushed away from the table, staring up at it with sudden anger that was almost as confounding as the speed with which the stain had spread.

As if from a distance, she heard her two regulars, Jim and Sal, talking. Jim muttered, “You smell that? Toilets backed up, you think?”

“Must be,” Sal agreed.

She jerked her gaze away and stared at the two men in shock. “Look,” she said, her voice squeaking. She jabbed a finger at the ceiling.

They did, both of them coming to their feet as they stared at the seeping blackness overhead. “What the fuck is that?” Sal demanded.

“I don’t know. It was just a spot earlier, but now—”

A loud buzzing spun them all around to face the front door and windows. The noise seemed to come from just outside. Droning and harsh, it grew in volume and intensity as they watched with mouths open and eyes wide.

Everyone except the detective.

He knew what was coming, knew what made that hideous, atonal sound. She could see it on his face. He scanned from the ceiling to the windows and back, eyes hard, brows pulled. 

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Five Deaths of Roxanne Love: A Page a Day (15)

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“Can’t you? Why don’t you have a seat? Let’s talk about my business.”

His eyes sparkled wickedly and the disquiet burrowing in the pit of her stomach spread its wings and became full-fledged anxiety. He was here to ask questions about Reece if she’d read the scenario correctly.

Reece? What did you do?

She needed to get back to the kitchen and find out what the hell was going on before the detective mindmelded her with another of those soul-searching looks and she said something stupid.

Roxanne pinned another fake smile in place and said, “Of course, Detective—”

“Santo. You can call me Santo.”

Oh, I think not.

“Let me just check on things in the kitchen first,” she said carefully. “We’re about to close up for the night.”

He glanced at his watch as if to confirm it and nodded. “By all means. Put your affairs in order.”

A really weird way of saying do what you need to do that pinged her inner alarms. She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but she glanced up again and all other thoughts vanished as she sucked in a stunned breath.

In the time she’d been talking to him, the stain had spread to the edges of the ceiling. She could see it moving like a wave rushing the shore. The idea that it was alive and with purpose took root in some sequestered part of her psyche and began to grow. She imagined she could even smell it. Dank and sulfurous. 

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Five Deaths of Roxanne Love: A Page a Day (14)

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He said very softly, “You have beautiful eyes. I didn’t expect that.”

“What?”

“It’s the gold in the gray, I think. It’s startling.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she stood there, speechless, mouth opened in surprise. She’d been told her eyes were pretty before—who hadn’t?—but coming from him, it seemed to take a deeper meaning. She felt another hot blush creep up her throat.

“What do you mean, you didn’t expect it?”

“I’ve been watching you.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Why?”

The question hung between them, filled with a weight she didn’t quite fathom. He seemed to be sifting through his thoughts, examining and discarding responses. At last he said simply, “I find you intriguing.”

“That sounds a little creepy considering you’ve never even met me before,” she said.

He laughed, and the sound sent a trill down her spine. She didn’t know if he was flirting with her or toying with her. Maybe it didn’t matter. She was ill equipped to handle either one.

“You and your brother seem to be having a disagreement tonight,” he said, switching the subject so unexpectedly that she had to scramble to keep up.

“I can’t see how that’s any of your business,” she answered. 

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Five Deaths of Roxanne Love: A Page a Day (13)

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“Off the clock.”

“But not off duty?”

“What cop is ever off duty?”

She supposed he had a valid point, but she was getting too many mixed signals from him to know what to trust.

“So what brings you and your badge to Love’s tonight?”

“Good food, fine brew, and great friends,” he said, quoting the motto printed on the front window.

“So you’re not looking for anyone?”

“Like?”

“I don’t know. Outlaws.”

“And if I am?” he asked.

She shrugged, glancing at the nearly deserted bar. “Good luck with that?”

A taut pause followed while he snared her gaze and held it prisoner.

“You seem a bit skittish, Roxanne.”

She felt a bit skittish. Excited. Like she’d just raced down a long staircase and found that the last step dropped into nowhere.

She balanced on the edge, hyperaware of him. His size. His intensity. His presence. She didn’t know if she wanted to bolt or move closer. He caught his bottom lip with his teeth and worried it for a moment, while his gaze delivered a message so male that she felt an instinctive, uncontrollable response. 

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