She was perched on the sofa again, so exhausted she was amazed that she could make any sense at all out of the data on the computer screen in front of her, let alone deliver a coherent report to her boss. The after-shocks of adrenaline were still shivering through her. It would be a while before her nerves calmed down to the point where she might be able to sleep.
But she could still touch Luther. The wonder of that buoyed her spirits as nothing else could have done.
He was at the window, watching the hot afternoon sun spark and flash on the ocean while listening to her conversation with Fallon. He was back in what she was starting to think of as his professional mode—cold, hard and very focused.
“What’s a Siren?” Fallon demanded. “Some kind of hypno talent?”
“It’s related to hypnosis in that the psychic energy is transmitted via the voice but it requires extremely high, pure notes, the kind that very few people can sing. Also, although there have probably been a fair number of Siren talents in the population, very few of them would have had the power to actually project a killing wave of energy.”
“So what happens with the others? Why haven’t we heard of non-lethal Sirens?”
She smiled faintly. “You have, sir, you just didn’t know it. They’re called opera singers.”
“Opera singers?” Fallon sounded thoroughly nonplussed.
“Not all of them are Sirens, of course. I suspect just some of the major coloratura sopranos. And those who are Sirens probably aren’t even aware of their psychic natures. Wait, I take that back. Opera singers are known for their egos. Some of them probably do consider their talents to be paranormal.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“How many times have you heard an opera singer described as ‘mesmerizing’? Historically various singers have been said to be able to transfix or enrapture their audiences.”
“Huh.”
She concentrated on the computer screen, reading quickly. “The high level of talent required to disrupt the human neurological system appears almost exclusively in females because it requires a true coloratura soprano to reach the high, killing notes. In addition to being linked to their voices, the talent is also connected to their sexuality, hence the Siren label.”
“Opera singers are sexy?” Fallon asked, dumbfounded.
“Sir, I hate to break this to you but opera singers as a group, male and female, are legendary for their sexual prowess. Wealthy, powerful men seem to find sopranos, in particular, absolutely riveting. Think Maria Callas and Aristotle Onassis.”
Luther turned around at that, brows lifting slightly. She pretended not to notice.
“You said the singer was crazy?” Fallon asked.
“Well, that depends on your definition of ‘crazy,’ I guess. She emanated some very unstable aspects, but she was obviously capable of making and carrying out an elaborate plan. I’m almost positive that she went into suite 604 intending to do violence to someone, presumably Eubanks.”
“You think she planned to wait for him there in his room?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“What about the bodyguard?”
“Maybe she wasn’t aware that Eubanks has one. Or maybe she assumed she could deal with both of them. Whatever the case, the hotel housekeeper interfered with the scheme. The Siren was furious with her for that.” She shivered, remembering the scene. “I swear, the singer acted like a genuine diva who has been interrupted in the middle of a performance.”
“Trying to kill the housekeeper seems a little extreme under the circumstances,” Fallon said. “You’d think the Siren could have talked her way out of the situation by telling the real maid that she was a new hire or something.”
“She’s an opera singer and she’s mentally unstable. Going over the top is probably second nature for her.”
“You really think she’s a trained singer?”
“No doubt about it. I’m betting she once sang professionally. Maybe she still does.”
“You say she accused you and the housekeeper of interrupting her performance?”
“I know, it’s an odd choice of words. The Siren may be unhinged but she sees herself as a star. Trust me, it was all there in her profile.”
“What about the housekeeper?” Fallon demanded. “Does she remember anything about what happened?”
Luther was still watching her. Grace focused on the computer screen. Lying was always such a tricky business and in her present exhausted state she had to be extra careful. As usual, she left in as much of the truth as possible.
“Not much,” she said. Truth. “As I told you, she fainted when the Siren started singing to her.” Not quite true. I’m the one who made her faint, not the singer. “When she woke up she was fine. I checked her aura. It looked healthy.” Truth. “She remembered going down the hall to see why another housekeeper was cleaning 604 but she didn’t recall anything after that.”
“What did you tell her?” Fallon asked.
“Just that I had seen her faint and that I went to investigate.”
“All true. Good. I like that in a lie. You’ve got a talent for the business, Grace.”
In spite of her weariness, a flash of pride straightened her shoulders and boosted her spirits.
“Thank you, sir.”
“So the bottom line here is that no one called hotel security?” Fallon asked.
“Right. The housekeeper and her manager assumed there was some sort of mix-up in the housekeeping schedule, that’s all.”
“Then Eubanks isn’t going to hear about any of this,” Fallon said with growing satisfaction.
“No, sir,” Grace agreed. “Luther checked on him a short while ago. Eubanks returned from the golf course with the rest of his group and went directly to his room. He doesn’t appear to have any concerns because he’s now in the spa getting a massage.”
“Which means his bodyguard didn’t pick up on the spoor of violence that must have been all over the place.”
“As I told you, the hunter profiles of all the bodyguards are incomplete.”
“Because of the drug, no doubt,” Fallon concluded. “Damn, I can’t wait to see where the hell this thing is going.”
Something in his voice reminded Grace that Fallon Jones came from a long line of hunters himself. It was true that his talent had taken a few unusual twists but the adrenaline rush of the chase came easily to the surface.