The door had a sort of elongated bolt instead of a chain, so I cracked it open with the bolt still flipped. “Who are you?” I blurted.

The man held up his hat with one hand so it covered his chest. “Ma’am, my name is Wyatt.”

Oh. “Laurel’s Wyatt?”

A genuine smile lit the man’s face under the big mustache. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve come to beg for your assistance. May I come in?”

Well, that was a new one. I looked him up and down, thinking of Jameson. “Are you carrying a gun?”

Surprised, he held his coat away from his body, displaying jeans and an untucked button-down that was cut slim to his body. “No, ma’am.”

I shut the door, thought about it for a moment, then shrugged to myself. As long as he wasn’t armed, I wasn’t terribly concerned for my safety. Might as well hear him out. I put my hoodie back on and tucked a knife in a little holster in one of the pockets. Then I unbolted the door and opened it wide, gesturing toward the sitting area down the hall. “Come in.”

Wyatt stepped forward. His eyes twitched slightly at the sight of my pajama pants, but he wisely chose not to comment. “Thank you, ma’am.”

For some reason being called ma’am by this guy didn’t grate on my nerves. Probably because he looked like he was on his way to the saloon for a card game with Doc Holliday.

Which was a scary thought, now that I considered it. “Wyatt as in Earp?” I asked him.

The vampire gave me a slight smile, showing tobacco-stained teeth that had never seen braces. I somehow got the impression that if he’d been wearing the hat, he would have tipped it. “No relation, I assure you.”

“Fair enough.” I pointed to the couch. “What can I do for you, Wyatt?”

The smile faded. He sat down. “Miss Laurel tells me you’re here to investigate the vampire dealings in Las Vegas.”

“That’s probably stretching it. I was just supposed to go see the show tonight.”

He lifted one heavy eyebrow. “And now that you have?”

“Now I go back to enjoying my trip,” I said, not sure if I believed it. “I’m just sort of the spotter.”

Wyatt studied me for a moment. He was leaning over, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers still kneading the hat brim. “But you’re not the first spotter, are you?”

That got my attention. I sat up a little straighter. “No, I’m not. Do you know something about the woman who came here before me?”

“I know that she disappeared, just like my Ellen. And just like all the others.”

“How?” I asked. “How did they disappear?”

He tossed the hat on the couch next to him and held out his empty hands. “I’m not sure. That’s what’s so goddamned frustrating. Ma’am.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Okay, fine. First, call me Scarlett. Second, back up a little. When was the last time you saw Ellen?”

He nodded. “Just over a week ago. But for the last few months, Ellen had been doing a little work for the Holmwoods, like half the other vampires in town. She was helping organize publicity for the show by speaking to different groups of vampires in Vegas and the surrounding areas.”

“Hang on.” I held up a hand. Every once in a while I had an actual, detective-like thought. “Were all the vampires here okay with this show?”

“You’re thinking someone may have been targeting the people involved with the show, like to get it shut down?” He shook his head. “It’s a showbiz town, Miss Scarlett. The Las Vegas vampires were happy to roll out the red carpet for Arthur and Lucy Holmwood. It was about the first thing they’d all agreed on in ages,” he added wryly.

Damn. But I did notice that Wyatt said they agreed to welcome the Holmwoods, rather than we.

“Did that include you and Ellen?” I asked, in case it was the other way around. Someone could have been targeting the people who were against the show.

But Wyatt said, “I just wanted to stay out of the whole thing. Ellen . . . she was a little worried about the show’s exposure, but she did believe the Holmwoods might finally bring the Las Vegas vampires together. She wanted that so badly. Peace, I mean.”

He paused, not meeting my eyes. “Ellen had mostly finished up in the week before the show opened. Then on opening night, Lucy and Arthur hosted a big reception. I didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to put on a suit and make nice with the vampire celebrities.” He said this last word with great distaste. “But Ellen said she had to. Lucy had gotten word that a vampire from LA was driving out to see the show, and she wanted Ellen to make her feel welcome.” He paused for a moment, and I realized that his eyes were wet. “That was the last I saw of her.”

I gave him a moment before asking, “Do you know how Lucy found out about the LA vampire?” That part worried me. Dashiell had made it sound like Margaret was coming incognito, so how had the Holmwoods anticipated her?

“That, I don’t know. I’m not even sure if Ellen made an appointment to meet with her, or if she was just supposed to keep an eye on her from a distance. Ellen had been working for the Holmwoods for a while by then without any issues, so I didn’t think to ask many questions.” His face darkened, and he looked at his empty hands. “And now she’s dead.”

“No offense, but how can you be sure Ellen didn’t just . . . um . . .”

“Leave town?”

I nodded. It was still possible that the simplest explanation was the right one.

Wyatt raised his head, looking me square in the eye, and said, “Ellen and me, we’ve been together for a hundred and twenty-six years. If she’d wanted to end it for any reason, she would have told me so. And I can’t think of a good reason for someone to capture vampires and imprison them somewhere long-term. Can you?”

“No,” I admitted.

He nodded, resigned. “So the skinners killed my Ellen. Probably this Margaret, too.”

The skinners again. I was really starting to hate that term. “Look,” I said. “I really am sorry for your loss. But I’m not the one to help you with this. Does Las Vegas have a cardinal vampire? Laurel didn’t know.”

“In a way,” he said, his reserved face twisting with sourness. “Before Arthur and Lucy Holmwood arrived, there were two vampires vying for control, Silvio and Minerva. They both wanted it bad, but the problem was that neither of them was really strong enough to hold a city like Vegas. Their little feud has been on autopilot for years, as though they were both just biding their time until one of them got more powerful with age.” He gave me a wry smile. “Or like they were waiting for a real contender to show up and take over.”

“And then the Holmwoods arrived,” I mused. “When exactly did they get here?”

“Mid-January. And Minerva disappeared only a few days later, along with a few other folks.”

I shook my head. This was getting ridiculous. “Wait, you’re saying Minerva is one of these disappeared vampires?”

“Yeah. Though I don’t rightly know if that was the skinners or the Holmwoods.”

Huh. I sat back in my chair. I may have sucked at politics, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t follow his logic. “You think Silvio is working for Arthur and Lucy? That they’re the real cardinal vampires?” It wouldn’t be the first time someone in power installed a puppet to hide behind.

“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” he admitted. “I don’t get the impression that the Holmwoods give a shit about being in charge of the city. They’re more interested in money and fame. But it was awfully suspicious that Minerva disappeared right after they arrived in town.” He shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say Silvio cut himself a deal. Let Arthur and Lucy do their thing, no questions asked, and he gets the rest of the city.”

It was possible. Then again, the skinners who had likely killed Ellen and Margaret might have taken out Minerva, too.

“What a mess,” I muttered. It sounded like three things had happened more or less at the same time: the Holmwoods opened their show, the skinners came to town, and Silvio rose to power. How could I figure out how these things were connected, if they even were?