And A Child Shall Lead Them

Chapter 2 - Snake In The Grass

Her skin had a smooth, dry texture, Richard Farley thought, as he ran his hand along the nude backside of the high-priced call girl lying next to him. Tanith was one of the more exotic playthings the millionaire businessman had come across in his travels. His expense account included a generous portion set aside for such "entertainment" when traveling, but she had ensured that his Las Vegas excursion would be memorable. He winced at the sudden dual pinpricks, but didn't complain; Farley enjoyed a bit of playful nibbling. His body stiffened and Tanith slithered from beneath the bed sheet, her head and neck seemingly elongated and hovering above him. Farley's eyes bulged as he watched Tanith's jaw contort and stretch, and her mouth become a gaping cavern, even as he realized paralysis had spread throughout his body. The interior of the cavernous mouth was the last sight Farley saw before it consumed him.

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"Farley. Richard Farley." The bald, heavyset man seated across from Gabe Horn and Lou Cypher repeated the name, as if anticipating a Pavlovian response.

Gabriel shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Dysart, but the name doesn't —"

"Farley Industries," Dysart bellowed. "It's the leading high tech firm in nanite computing devices. Richard Farley is the brain behind the company. His genius is creating an entirely new niche in the computer and electronics industry. His firm is poised to become the next IBM, or Microsoft, or Apple. The man is single-handedly ushering in a trillion-dollar industry. But there's the rub — if anything were to happen to him, it would be the end of Farley Industries. That's why his company purchased key man insurance from us. If Richard Farley dies, we stand to lose $500 million."

Lucifer whistled. "That's a fair chunk, even by my standards."

"It gets worse," Dysart said. "Farley's been missing for three days. But he's not the first. Sixteen high level corporate executives — all with key man insurance policies issued by my company — have either disappeared or turned up dead here in Las Vegas in the past 90 days."

"Dead?" Gabriel repeated.

"Six were found dead in their hotel beds," Dysart explained.

"Heart attacks?" Lucifer asked.

Dysart shook his head. "Snakebites."

Gabriel and Lucifer exchanged glances.

"Snakebites?" Gabriel asked. "I know we're in the desert, but I don't think I've ever seen a snake in the city since Lou and I arrived in Las Vegas."

"One snakebite death would be unusual; two unlikely — but six?" Dysart asked. "My company can't take these kinds of losses. If all the missing men turn up dead as well..."

"Mr. Dysart, have there been similar occurrences with any of your insureds outside of Las Vegas?" Lucifer asked.

"None," Dysart replied. "We can't tell our insureds where they can travel. We're talking about executives who fly all over the world, sometimes to dangerous places. But come on, Las Vegas? When did this place become a kill zone for the corporate elite?"

"All right, we'll take the case, Mr. Dysart," Lucifer said. "Sharon will print out a retainer agreement for you. Of course, we'll need customary expenses in addition to our fee."

"My company will pay you $50,000 for each of the missing men you find and a $100,000 bonus if you find out what's behind these disappearances and deaths."

"You suspect foul play?" Gabriel asked.

"Mr. Horn, the business world can be a deadly environment filled with corporate espionage, intrigue, and yes, even murder," Dysart said. "There are individuals and concerns that don't want to see these men succeed in their ventures. While change may create new jobs and new wealth, for many the status quo is extremely profitable and they do not wish it disturbed. Regardless, just find Farley and the others. Las Vegas is either a convention destination or 'weekend get-away' for every Fortune 500 executive we insure. I'm counting on you two to get to the bottom of this quick."