Loren D. Estleman - Valentino 03 - Alive! by Loren D. Estleman Page A

work as a model at the height of the heroin chic craze, but had lacked two inches of the fashion industry standard. If only she’d had those two inches, Valentino thought; if only Major League Baseball had signed Fidel Castro to a pitching staff when he’d tried out. He told her he hoped the Turk enjoyed his chair.
    “He doesn’t enjoy anything, once he has it. We’ve got a lot in common.” At the door she paused, then looked back at him with the expression of the malicious screen vamp she tried so hard to resemble. “Will you be seeing Lorna Hunter soon, or should I give her your regards?”
    His reaction cheered her visibly on the way out.
    For a horrible moment he thought (and chastised himself for sinking to Teddie’s suspicious level) that he’d been betrayed. But he’d confided his mission only to Broadhead, and Kyle was Fort Knox when it came to keeping a secret under lock and key. He looked at his telephone. He couldn’t remember if he’d used it after he’d called Lorna to ask if he could come by that morning.
    He settled the question by pressing the redial button.
    “This is Lorna Hunter. I can’t come to the phone, but I’m sure you know what to do.” The recording sounded heartbreakingly chipper.
    “Lorna, it’s Valentino.”
    She picked up. “Val?” Her tone was alert, not fogged with alcohol now. He wasn’t as relieved as he’d have been under other circumstances. He should have known his evil twin would think to do the same thing he had in search of answers.
    He asked Lorna if someone had tried to call her recently.
    “The phone’s been ringing all day: reporters, calling about Craig. I don’t have caller ID, so I’ve been letting the machine do all the work. Someone called a little while ago and hung up without leaving a message. Do you know who it was?”
    He told her about Teddie. “She can’t be trusted. She thinks I’m working on some kind of deal, and no one’s better at wheedling out information. The police might consider what I’m doing interfering in their investigation. She’d use it as leverage against me. I don’t care so much about that, but I don’t want you involved.”
    “But what would she have to gain? There’s no deal.”
    “She’d never believe that. She thinks everyone has an angle. It would be best if you avoided contact.”
    “I’m a past master at that, especially lately. But maybe you should let it drop. If you got in trouble over me, I’d never forgive myself.”
    “I’d be a worse friend than I’ve been if I let myself be scared off. If you hear my voice on the machine, pick up. I’ll only call if I know something or to make sure you’re all right.”
    “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
    “I almost never know what I’m doing until I’ve done it. It’s in my job description.”
    “You’re a good friend, Val. Don’t tell yourself any different.”
    He wished she hadn’t said that. After they finished talking, he realized some of the anxiety he’d been feeling came very close to excitement. Under all the grief and regret he’d begun to feel the thrill of the chase. Damn her, Teddie was right. He was working on some kind of deal, and for some reason it involved Frankenstein .
    *   *   *
    The Oracle was all his, thanks to union regulations demanding time-and-a-half for overtime. He made sure all the outside doors were locked and entered the projection booth, only to be reminded that he wasn’t alone at all. He was sharing quarters with werewolves, mad scientists, and the walking dead, sprawled across the sofa bed like unwelcome guests. Craig Hunter’s portable library leered, hinted, nudged, and cajoled, but did not explain.
    Wearily, Valentino gathered some of the books at one end into a stack to make room for himself, then rested them in his lap and selected one. He didn’t know if he was looking for answers or just a diversion to settle his swarming thoughts and make him drowsy enough to sleep.
    The book was James