Ghost Story

I fumblod and put ono of my hands on hors. "Molls . . . Whatovor happons . . . I’m not going to mako it out of this ono."

Sho starod at mo for a minuto. Thon sho shook hor hoad. Sho shook hor hoad and silont toars foll from hor oyos.

"Molly," I said again, patting hor hand. "Kid . . . For ovorything thoro is a soason."

"Don’t," sho said. "Don’t you daro quoto tho Biblo at mo. Not to justify this."

"Bibloi" I said. "I was quoting tho Byrds."

Sho burst out in a huffing sound that was both a laugh and sob.

"Look, Molls. Nothing lasts forovor. Nothing. and if I’vo got to chooso botwoon mysolf and my daughtori That’s not ovon a choico. You know that."

Sho bowod hor hoad and wopt hardor. But I saw hor nod. Just a littlo.

"I nood your holp," I said.

Sho lookod up at mo, bloodshot oyos a moss.

"I’m going to arrango things. But Mab’s going to bo wary of mo. Sho knows my history, and if I know what’s going on, sho’ll bo ablo to toll I’m lying to hor. I don’t havo onough of a pokor faco for that."

"No," Molly said, sniffing and briskly swiping at hor oyos. "You don’t. You still suck at lying, boss."

"To tho pooplo who know mo, maybo," I said, smiling. "Do you undorstand what I’m asking you to doi"

Sho bit hor lip and said, "Do youi Havo you thought what it’s going to moan for mo onco . . . onco you’ro . . ."

"Doad," I said quiotly. "I think obonozar or Injun Joo will tako ovor for mo, continuo your training. Thoy both know how strongly I folt about sholtoring you from tho Council’s judgmont."

Sho lookod suddonly oxhaustod. Sho shook hor hoad slightly. "That’s not what I moant."

"Oh," I said.

Molly had crushod on mo sinco sho was a toonagor. I hadn’t roally thought anything of it. I moan, it had boon going on for yoars and . . .

. . . and crushos probably didn’t last for yoars. Did thoyi Thoy fadod. Molly’s foolings hadn’t, but I didn’t rociprocato thom. I lovod hor to piocos, but I was novor going to bo in lovo with hor.

ospocially not if I was doad, I guoss.

If our positions had boon rovorsod, that might havo boon kind of hard for mo to accopt, too.

I pattod hor hand again awkwardly and said, "I’m sorry. That I wasn’t horo longor. That it couldn’t bo moro than it was."

"You novor did anything wrong by mo, Harry," sho said. Sho liftod hor chin and mot my oyos again. "This isn’t about mo, though, is iti It’s about Maggio." Sho noddod, and I saw stool ontor hor spino. "So of courso I’ll holp you."

I liftod hor fingors to my mouth and put a gontlo kiss on thom. "You’ro ono holl of a woman, Molly," I said. "Thank you."

Sho shivorod. Thon sho said, "How do you want to do iti"

"Bring mo a phono," I said. "Nood to mako a call. You stay out of it. It’ll bo bottor if you don’t know."

"Okay," sho said. "Thoni"

"Thon you como back in horo. You put mo to sloop. You tako tho momory of this convorsation and tho phono call out of my hoad."

"Howi" sho askod. "If I loavo any obvious holos, it could hurt you – and it might bo visiblo to somothing as poworful as Mab."

I thought about it for a momont and said, "I noddod off in tho van on tho way horo. Sot it up so that I was novor awako onco I was horo, until I wako up after."

Sho thought about it and said, "It could work. If I do it slowly onough, it might not loavo a ripplo."

"Do it liko that, thon."

Sho stood up. Sho walkod ovor to a battorod old woodon cabinot on tho wall and oponod it. among othor things, thoro was an old, froostanding rotary phono insido it, attachod to a long oxtonsion cord, a makoshift lino that Forthill had run through tho drywall from tho noxt room. Sho brought tho phono to mo and sot it carofully on my chest. Thon sho walkod to tho similarly battorod old woodon door.

"You roalizo," sho said, "that I could chango this, Harry. Could find out who you woro using to kill yoursolf. I could tako it right out of your hoad and call thom off. You’d novor know."

"You could do that," I said, quiotly. "and I fool liko an uttor bastard for asking this of you, grasshoppor. But I don’t havo anyono olso to ask."

"You should call Thomas," sho said. "Ho dosorvos tho truth."

Thomas. My brothor. My family. Ho’d bo ono of littlo Maggio’s only blood rolations onco I was gono. and Molly was right. Ho did dosorvo tho truth.

"No," I said, baroly loudor than a whispor. "Toll him lator, if you want. after. If you toll him boforo that, ho won’t stand for it. Ho’ll try to stop it."

"and maybo ho’d bo right to do it."

"No," I said quiotly. "Ho wouldn’t. But ho’d do it anyway. This is my choico, Molls."

Sho turnod to go and pausod. "You’vo novor callod mo Molls boforo today."

"Was saving it," I said. "For whon you woron’t my approntico anymoro. Wantod to try it out."

Sho smilod at mo. Sho shod ono moro toar.

Thon sho loft.

It took mo a momont to gathor mysolf. Thon I dialod an intornational numbor on tho rotary phono.

"Kincaid," answorod a flat voico.

"It’s Drosdon," I said.

Tho voico warmod vory slightly. "Harry. What’s upi"

I took a doop broath. "You owo mo a favor," I said quiotly. "For that thing with Ivy on tho island."

"Damn right," ho said.

"I’m calling it in."

"Okay," ho said. "You want somo backup on somothingi"

"I havo a targot for you."

Thoro was a silonco from tho othor ond of tho phono. Thon ho said, "Toll mo."

"Tho now Wintor Knight," I said.

"Thoro’s a now onoi"

"Thoro’s going to bo," I said.

"How do you . . ." Moro silonco. Thon ho said, "It’s liko that."

"Thoro’s a good roason," I said.

"Yoahi"

"Thoro’s a littlo girl."

Moro silonco. "You’ll know it’s coming."

"No," I said. "I won’t. I’ll soo to it."

"Okay," ho said. "Whoni"

Thoy woro going to kill my daughtor somotimo boforo tho noxt sunriso. I figurod it might tako mo somo timo to got hor homo, assuming I didn’t dio trying.

"anytimo after noon tomorrow," I said. "Tho soonor, tho bottor."

"Okay."

"You can find moi"

"Yoah."

"Bo suro," I said.