Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3), Gemma Halliday [free ebooks romance novels txt] 📗

"Ladies and gentlemen," a loud voice boomed through the speakers. "I'm pleased to welcome you all to the first annual Gamer Con Pixel Ball!"

A roar of excitement went up from the crowd, and my gaze whipped around to find the rest of our party. If the ball was starting, we needed to get into position quickly.

Chase and Kyle must have realized it too because they emerged from the crowd, quickly converging on us. "Hey, you guys ready?" Chase asked.

I nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."

*   *   *

With the ball being the main attraction that night, the exhibit hall floor was rapidly emptying, those few vendors still in attendance slowly closing down their booths, wrapping up any unsold wares, and counting out their profits from the weekend. Though, enough stragglers were still walking the floor that no one paid us any attention as we made our way to the back of the room where the dark VizaSoft booth stood.

With a glance over our shoulders, we snuck under the yellow and black tape and around the barricade to the tall black structure that housed the display. Chase led the way inside the entrance, and it was dark inside, the slim cracks of light coming in through the doorway casting shadows around the small booth. Four gaming chairs and large monitors were set up where convention goers could have tested out Athena's Quest, and posters with scenes from the game were plastered on the dark wood walls, Sophia's face front and center on several.

Chase pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight and shining it around the booth.

"Where was he killed?" Kyle asked.

I'd wondered the same thing. While the booth was larger than most at the con, it was still about the size of a small bedroom. There was an entrance we'd just come in and an exit on the opposite wall for flow-through traffic. Along the back wall, I could see another doorway, standing slightly ajar. I peeked in the open doorway and saw a small storage area, several boxes stacked inside of it that were probably full of promotional items related to the game that had never been handed out. I was about to turn around and go back, when something else caught my eye.

Two small red droplets on the side of one of the cardboard boxes.

My stomach clenched, and I told myself it was probably ketchup. Yup, somehow someone had been eating a hot dog back there and splattered ketchup on the box. Definitely not blood. Definitely not Connor's blood. And he definitely had not been killed…right where I was standing.

I took a huge step backward, colliding with Chase as I did.

"Whoa." His arms went out to steady me, and I sort of melted into their strong, warm, and very alive feeling.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes registering genuine concern.

I licked my lips and nodded. "Yep. Just saw some ketchup."

He quirked an eyebrow at me but luckily didn't ask for an explanation. Which was good, because it took a couple of beats before I could find my voice again.

"We should get in position," Kyle said, gesturing toward the exit sign.

Chase nodded. "Right. You and Sam want to cover the back? Hartley, you can take the exit on the side, and I'll take the main entrance."

"Sure," I said, dragging in a steadying breath. I'd be happy to take any position not in that storage closet.

"Have your phones ready to film," Chase cautioned as we split up.

Sam and Kyle pushed through the doorway with the exit sign and went right, presumably finding somewhere behind the booth to hide. I watched Chase retrace his steps back the way we'd come in as he took up a hidden position at the front of the booth. And I went out the door and to the left, in the direction convention goers would have been funneled once finishing their test of the game.

The lights of the main convention floor were a stark contrast to the dark interior of the booth, and I blinked as my eyes adjusted again. Just in the few minutes we'd been inside, I could see the stragglers thinning out, fewer people lingering, most booths abandoned.

I found an empty one that had sold comic books just across the aisle from the VizaSoft display and ducked down behind it, crouching on the floor. The scents of dust and old paper still lingered, tickling my nose. I pulled my phone out, aiming it at the door to the VizaSoft display and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I wondered how long until Phoebe made an appearance. If she made an appearance. We were still working on speculation. Even though I was pretty sure she was the one who'd killed Connor and pretty sure she'd bugged my phone to keep tabs on us after she did. There was still the question of if she'd take Chase's texts about evidence seriously and come look for it here. Who knows…maybe she hadn't even had a chance to look at his texts yet.

I'd almost talked myself out of the whole plan, when I finally heard something. The flutter of plastic as someone touched the crime scene tape.

I peeked my head around the counter and spotted her.

Or, at least a figure. A woman dressed in a long black cloak that reached to the floor. A wide hood covered her head as she moved with her back to me. I trained my phone on her, filming. But in all honesty, she was so well covered up, it was hard to tell if it was Phoebe. I needed a shot of her face. Or at least her feet or legs or anything that could identify her as her.

I moved to the left, out from the comic booth, and slipped