Unsung Heroine Page 4

  But how could I banish all of these bad feelings at once? It seemed like simply too much. I frowned harder, watching DCI Tom Barnaby closely as he discovered that every random element of his case was, in fact, connected.

  And then, like a bolt of lightning bonking me right in the brain, it hit me. Of course. My problems were all connected, too. Thus, they required a solution that united them all!

  And just like that, I had the perfect plan. Something that would get rid of my bad feelings all in one go.

  I passed Aveda—now fully sucked into the show—my iPad and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Then I navigated myself over to Celine Only-One-Name’s Instagram (thankfully, she’d been tagged multiple times on The Gutter’s Insta). I scrolled through her feed, clues about her life revealing themselves to me. I lingered on one photo in particular—a close-up of her as she hit that high G-sharp (I knew this because it was handily tagged #gsharp). Her face was so intense, screwed up into an expression that almost looked like fury as she belted that note out.

  I smiled to myself.

  Yes. This was going to work perfectly.

  Text Messages Between Lucy Valdez and Rose Rorick, Eight Months Before Aveda Jupiter’s Annoyingly Meddlesome Intervention

  RR: Great song tonight.

  LV: You were there?! At The Gutter? Whyever did you not say hello?

  RR: You seemed busy, I didn’t want to interrupt you. You were with someone . . .

  LV: Oh, Mia??

  RR: She’s cute.

  LV: Isn’t she? We had fun later . . .

  RR: Isn’t it later . . . now?

  LV: I sent her off already. Once the fun was over, we didn’t have much to talk about. But rest assured, she left very satisfied.

  RR: I’ve heard.

  LV: You know Mia??

  RR: No, I mean, I’ve heard . . . about you. You’re kind of a legend.

  LV: Rose Rorick, are you slut-shaming me??

  RR: No! I’m impressed. Very impressed.

  LV: Ha, I can’t believe I got you to use an exclamation point. Well, now you know one of my secrets. So by law, you must tell me one of yours.

  RR: I don’t think that’s the law.

  LV: It’s my law.

  RR: Hmm. Okay. I . . . hmm.

  LV: What?! Can’t think of anything embarrassing enough? Is your past as spotless as your shirts?

  RR: No, no . . . it’s embarrassing.

  RR: All right, here goes.

  RR: I’m a nerd, but I only like . . . the worst parts of things. Or the parts that people think are the worst.

  LV: Pardon?

  RR: Like. I am the only person I know who loves the theme song to the Star Trek show Enterprise. Pretty much everyone agrees it’s one of the worst theme songs ever. Also, the Star Wars prequels. I love them. More than any other Star Wars.

  RR: Do you still want to hang out with me?

  RR: Lucy?

  RR: Are you still there?

  LV: Sorry, darling, I was trying to take a picture of myself faux passed-out from the shock of it all, but I could not find a proper angle. The truth is, I don’t know anything about Star Wars. What was it about these that appealed to you?

  RR: Padmé. You know, the queen? Leia’s mom? I might have had a Natalie Portman thing.

  LV: Goodness, I’m learning all kinds of secrets about you tonight!

  RR: I used to write fanfic. About her and the handmaidens. I loved the handmaidens—they were totally badass, like these ladies who were part of the Queen’s entourage, but they weren’t just that. They were advisers, confidantes, bodyguards. Masters of political maneuvering and combat of all sorts and everything in between.

  LV: !!!

  RR: I made up a whole new character, even, a Black handmaiden/Jedi who romances Padmé.

  LV: I. Love. That. We often have to create our own spaces in the narrative, don’t we?

  RR: We do. Though there is one actual handmaiden played by a Mexican actress. . . .

  LV: Goodness! Does she look like me?!

  RR: No one looks like you.

  LV: You stop, Rose Rorick, you’ll make me blush. You do realize that now I have to go find this fanfic of yours . . .

  RR: You will never find it.

  LV: Evie speaks nerd. She’ll help me.

  RR: God. I’ve never talked about this to anyone before. How . . . did you get me to confess all of these deep, dark secrets?

  LV: I’m just that good. But you can trust me with your secrets, Ms. Rorick. I’ve got you.

  RR: I’ve got you back.

  Chapter Three

  “So? Did you disruptive glory hogs find anything or can I go back to operating my place of business in a business-like manner?” Kevin crossed his arms over his bountiful chest, rumpling the empowering message of his t-shirt: IF YOU’RE HAPA AND YOU KNOW IT, CLAP YOUR HANDS.

  Kevin, for all his many flaws, was the true king of wearing empowering message t-shirts with panache. He was Blatasian—Black, Latinx, Asian—and I could appreciate how well he wore his mixed race pride.

  “If you mean ‘did we complete an additional highly scientific scan that tells us whether or not your place of business is about to be infested with murderous demons?’—then, yes, we have done that,” Aveda said, not quite answering his initial question. She glowered at him. “You’re welcome.”

  “The results are not exactly illuminating.” Nate, Evie’s hulking half-demon husband—and Team Tanaka/Jupiter’s resident physician and demonology expert—frowned, his brow crinkling in consternation. “The traces of supernatural energy Rose’s team picked up last night are fading, but they are still present. Which leads me to wonder if there will be further activity, or if this energy is . . .”

  “Just taking its sweet time to fade?” Aveda said.

  “We’re sure there’s no portal here, right?” Evie said, gnawing on her lower lip. “We’ve looked absolutely everywhere?”

  “Or maybe there are a bunch of possessed Bridezillas running around,” Aveda chimed in.

  “Or a rogue puppy demon on the loose!” Evie said with a wry grin.

  “So many possibilities,” I murmured.

  “The code from the scans last night indicate that the energy’s source is the Pussy Queen Portal, as usual,” Rose piped up. “Though it is odd that it’s still showing up all these hours later.”

  I studied her, trying to keep myself from outright staring. Now that I had a plan for ridding myself of all Rose-related twitchiness, I was so ready to get it going.

  Just don’t look at her neck . . . blast. Now you’re staring for sure.

  I forced myself to turn away.

  “But bottom line, I can open as usual tonight?” Kevin said, rolling his eyes. “The competition can proceed?”

  “The competition can proceed,” Aveda said, somewhat reluctantly. “But we recommend additional security measures.”

  “There is no way I can possibly afford that,” Kevin sniffed. “I’ve already shelled out so much for this championship—I paid for special advertising and promotion and hired Shruti to provide costumes from her amazing vintage collection, and we have a full photo shoot later today, which I also paid for. I even invested in this sweet new confetti cannon . . .” He brandished a small, plastic contraption that . . . well, it did indeed look like a mini cannon. Kevin aimed the contraption at the stage and pulled a trigger on the side, which released a rather impressive swarm of tiny black paper bits.

  “Music notes!” Kevin bellowed as the confetti drifted to the stage. “The confetti’s shaped like actual music notes! That ain’t cheap!”

  “Relax,” Aveda said, her aggravation prickling through. “Team Tanaka/Jupiter will take care of the extra security. And perhaps Sergeant Rorick can have some o
f her people here as well?” She raised an eyebrow at Rose.

  “Done—I’ll authorize the overtime,” Rose said.

  “Is there anything else we can do in the meantime?” Evie said. “To try to figure out if the lingering energy is going to fade to nothing or turn into a total disaster?”

  “Given our usual odds, I would bet total disaster,” Aveda said.

  “We can attempt to learn more about this particular supernatural energy,” Nate mused. “Though we know the source is the Pussy Queen Portal, we still don’t know much about how or why said portal is allowing energy to leak into our world in various locations around the city. Thus far, there doesn’t seem to be malicious intent, as there was with the invasion attempts. But it’s always best to gather as much data as possible.”

  “If there was intent here . . . I mean, could the demons want to disrupt the karaoke championship for some reason?” I said, turning to Kevin. “Have you made any new enemies lately?”

  “Everyone adores me,” Kevin retorted, gifting me with a particularly impressive eye-roll. “Jealous? Anyhow, the target was actually much more specific than my amazing competition. That chandelier went directly for our new staaaar. As opposed to old reliable.” He gave me a smug look.

  “Yes, darling, I am positively ancient,” I said, returning his massive eye-roll. “But that is an accidental good point. Perhaps we should speak further with Celine, find out if there’s anything she remembers seeing from the stage right before the chandelier went for her head.”

  “We could do an extra supernatural scan of her as well,” Nate said. “Just in case something attached itself to her—which we’ve certainly seen before. I know the scans aren’t always as informative as they could be, but it can’t hurt to try.”

  “Celine is coming in soon for costume selection,” Kevin said, looking reluctant to intentionally give us even a scrap of helpful information.

  “Excellent,” Aveda said. “Lucy, why don’t you take care of all that? I bet Rose would love to help you.” She gave Rose a particularly winning version of her dazzling Aveda Jupiter Smile.

  “I’m happy to,” Rose said, looking at her quizzically. “But that sounds like something Lucy’s more than capable of handling herself?”

  “Oh, of course, of course,” Aveda said, her grin stretching wider. “No one is as capable as our Lucy, that’s what I always say. Don’t I always say that, Evie?”

  “Uh, sure?” Evie said, her brow knitting as she looked from me to Aveda and back again.

  “And such a fashion plate!” Aveda continued, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. “She always puts together the best ensembles—look at those boots!” She made an expansive gesture to my footwear: cream-colored, granny-style lace-ups with a round toe and scalloped embellishments. “So adorable. Just like everything she wears. And says. And does. I mean, if you looked up ‘adorable’ in the dictionary—”

  “Aveda, can I talk to you for a minute?” I said through gritted teeth. “You too, Evie.”

  “Of course,” Evie said, in a tone that indicated she knew something was up. She was familiar with Aveda acting like a complete loon and all the nonsense that usually came with it. She jerked her chin toward the bar’s entrance. “Hey, it looks like Celine’s arrived—want to go greet her, Rose? Luce will join you as soon as we’ve had our little conference.”

  “Sure,” Rose said, her gaze going to the other side of the room, where Celine was sauntering into The Gutter. She looked gorgeous in a more casual way today, clad in comfy sweats and a chunky-knit sweater, her hair pulled into a high ponytail. A ponytail that looked awfully similar to the way I’d done my hair the night before, I couldn’t help but notice.

  I shook my head. What was I thinking? A high ponytail was an extremely common hairstyle. If we’re talking about trademarking such a thing, Ariana Grande would surely like a word with both of us. Not to mention Aveda, who was quite proud of her ability to rock what she called her “power ponytail” with flair.

  Hmm. I really needed to set my plan in motion, to nip this unseemly jealousy in the bud.

  While Rose went to greet Celine and Nate headed back to HQ, I grabbed Evie and Aveda’s respective sleeves and dragged them both over to a quiet corner.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed at Aveda. I turned to Evie. “And why are you letting her do it?”

  “I don’t know what she’s doing,” Evie said, holding up her hands. “Also, I’m not the boss of her.”

  “And I’m not the boss of her,” Aveda said. “We’ve finally acknowledged the co-dependence of our occasionally toxic dynamic and have committed to a relationship as equals, thereby ensuring—”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” I said, waving a hand. “I have heard this stirring speech so many times I can practically recite it myself. I meant what are you doing with me and Rose?”

  “Oh!” Aveda brightened. “Obviously I’m trying to facilitate the love connection—like we talked about last night!”

  “That is not what we talked about,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Hey, catch me up,” Evie said, poking Aveda’s arm. “I didn’t realize plans were made when you guys talked last night. Annie, I will totally go in with you on this plan, if it is, in fact, a plan—”

  “We talked about me reclaiming myself,” I interrupted. “Which is exactly what I’m planning on doing, by . . .” I paused, a smile playing over my lips. Really, the scheme I’d concocted was too brilliant not to be shared. I straightened my spine and cocked a rakish eyebrow at them. “By making a true love connection between Rose and Celine!”

  “Wait, what?!” Evie blurted out, shaking her head.

  “Soooo . . .” Aveda’s brows drew together. “You’re going to set up the woman who’s obviously your true love with someone else. Who is not you.”

  “Not just any someone else!” I protested. “A quick perusal of Celine’s Insta revealed her to be the absolute perfect candidate. She’s newly single—”

  “Wait, how do you know that?” Evie said, her voice skeptical. Evie was an extremely private person and didn’t understand why anyone would want to share anything with a bunch of strangers on the internet.

  “She posted a photo of a heart cookie, artfully broken in half and overlaid with a particularly wrenching Hayley Kiyoko lyric,” I said.

  “God, I love Hayley Kiyoko,” Aveda murmured.

  “She also shared a picture of herself at a Star Trek convention,” I continued. “Which I happen to know Rose will be very into. And she is a true performer, which will balance perfectly with Rose’s more staid demeanor.”

  “Oh, Lucy.” Evie ran a hand over her face. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes,” I countered stubbornly. “I have it all figured out. Additionally, Celine is the only person who’s ever . . .” My heart caught in my throat, but I made myself soldier on. “Who’s ever made Rose smile,” I managed to finish. “And she deserves to smile all the time. She’s been feeling ever so down and depleted and I want her to be truly happy.”

  “But you have feelings,” Aveda sputtered. “I know you do. Why on earth would you—”

  “Ah, but this will also help me fix that,” I said, holding up a finger. “Because once my dear friend Rose is happy, there’s no way I can be upset about that—or jealous of the person who’s making her happy. It’s a win-win on all sides. We can finally co-exist in the grand kingdom of Friendlandia with no pining and all will be well.”

  “That’s not how feelings work,” Evie said.

  “I really don’t think you’ve thought this through at all—” Aveda began.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to begin setting my masterful plan in motion,” I said.

  Then I swept off, leaving their chorus of protests behind me.

  * * *

  • • •

  “Wow, so this is the back room of Th
e Gutter.” Celine looked around, her eyes widening. “I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

  “Uh, yes, very glamorous,” I said, trying to keep the skepticism out of my voice. The Gutter’s back “room” was really more of a dingy closet, crammed with dusty metal shelving overrun with binders, piles of old paperwork, and moldering boxes of Kevin’s various ill-advised attempts at swag. (Evie had also informed me that said room/closet was surprisingly useful for amorous hookups, but I had to admit that I simply could not see the appeal.)

  But to actually be impressed by this space . . . well, Celine had either perfected the fresh-faced ingénue act, or she really was a level of earnest I did not believe I’d ever encountered before. That was certainly a bit . . . grating.

  It’s yet another perfect contrast for Rose, I told myself sternly. She’s the jaded, seen-it-all cop type. Which is so fucking sexy—no! Stay on task.

  Rose had activated the scanner tool, a clunky gray bar that lit up and provided various code read-outs whenever it detected supernatural energy. She was meticulously running it through the air around Celine’s body, concentrating on the read-out area to see if anything popped up. Which left me the task of asking questions.

  “So, Celine,” I said, going for a warm, conversational tone. “We were wondering if you noticed anything unusual last night. You know, right before the chandelier went for your head.”

  “Oh my, no,” Celine said, shuddering. “To be perfectly honest with you, all I really remember was a sudden shift in my state of being. I was so wrapped up in feeling Mimi’s G-sharp in every part of my body, you know? It was coursing through me, reverberating in every finger and toe. And then I opened my eyes and it was just . . . complete terror. That thing coming for me.” She shuddered again.

  “Did you notice any of the flashing lights happening around you?” I said. “They were rather ostentatious, even for demons.”