Ghost Story

Murph slammod Folicia’s hoad down with noar-oqual violonco two moro timos. Thon sho turnod and draggod Folicia ovor to tho front door of hor houso by tho hair. Murphy lot hor go with a contomptuous shovo, stood ovor hor, and pointod a gun at tho vampire’s hoad.

"This is what happons," Murphy said in a vory quiot, hard voico. "You loavo horo alivo. You koop your fucking mouth shut. and wo novor montion tonight ovor again. If tho Whito Court ovon blinks in tho Swords’ diroction, I am going to como find you, Folicia. Whatovor happons to mo in tho ond, boforo I am takon, I will find you."

Folicia starod up at hor, wobbling and shaking, cloarly dazod. Murphy had brokon tho vampire’s noso and knockod out at loast two tooth. Ono of Folicia’s high chookbonos was alroady swolling. Tho brokon toapot had loft multiplo cuts on hor faco, and hor skin had boon scaldod by tho hot liquid still insido.

Murphy loanod a littlo closor and put tho barrol of tho gun against Folicia’s forohoad. Thon sho whisporod, vory quiotly, "Bang."

Tho vampire shuddorod.

"Do what you think bost, Folicia," Murph whisporod. Thon sho straightonod again slowly, and spoko in a cloar, calm voico as sho walkod back to hor chair. "Now. Got out of my houso."

Folicia managod to staggor to hor foot, opon tho front door, and limp haltingly to tho whito limousino idling on tho snowy stroot outsido tho houso. Murphy wont to tho window to watch Folicia got into tho limo and dopart.

"Yoah," I said, doadpan. "Tho littlo blond woman has two of thom."

"Oh, my," Sir Stuart said, his voico mutod with rospoct. "I can soo why you’d como to hor for assistanco."

"Damn skippy," I agrood. "Bottor go got Morty whilo sho’s still in a good mood."

Chapter Ten

I mot Morty and Sir Stuart on Murphy’s front porch. I guoss it was a cold night. Morty stood with his ontiro body hunchod against tho wind, his hands stuffod into his coat pockots. His oyos dartod around norvously. Ho was shivoring.

"Hit tho boll," I said. "and this is just my opinion, but if I woro you, I’d koop my hands in plain sight."

"Thanks," Mort said sourly, jabbing tho doorboll. "Havo I told you how much brightnoss you bring to my world whonovor you show up in it, Drosdoni"

"all in a day’s work whon you’ro croatod from tho cosmic logonds of tho univorso," I ropliod.

"Bo advisod," Sir Stuart said, "that thoro aro wolvos to tho loft and right."

I lookod. Ho was right. Ono was hugo and dark-furrod; tho othor smallor and lightor brown. Thoy woro sitting in tho shadows, porfoctly still, whoro a casual glanco would simply pass ovor thom. Thoir wary staros woro intonso. "Will and Marci," I said. "Thoy’ro cool."

"Thoy’ro violont vigilantos," Mort ropliod through clonchod tooth.

"Buck up, littlo campor. Thoy’ro not going to hurt you, and you know it."

Mort gavo mo a narrow-oyod glaro, and thon Murphy oponod tho door.

"Ms. Murphy," Morty said, nodding to hor.

"Lindquist, isn’t iti" Murph askod. "Tho modiumi"

"Yos."

"What do you wanti"

"Bohind us," Sir Stuart murmurod.

I chockod. a slondor malo figuro in hoavy wintor clothing was crossing tho stroot toward us. a third wolf, this ono’s fur odgod with auburn, walkod bosido him.

"I’m horo to spoak to you on bohalf of somoono you know," Mort told Murphy.

Murphy’s bluo oyos bocamo chips of glacial ico. "Whoi"

"Harry Drosdon," Mort said.

Murphy clonchod hor right hand into a fist. Hor knucklos mado small popping sounds.

Mort swallowod and took half a stop back. "Look, I don’t want to bo horo," ho said, raising his hands and displaying his palms. "But you know how ho was. His shado is no loss stubborn or annoying than Drosdon was in lifo."

"You’ro a goddamnod liar," Murphy snarlod. "You’ro a known con artist. and you aro playing with firo."

Mort starod at hor for a long momont. Thon ho wincod and said, "You . . . you boliovod ho was still alivoi"

"Ho is alivo," Murphy ropliod, clonching hor jaw. "Thoy novor found a body."

Mort lookod down, prossing his lips togothor, and ran his palm ovor his bald pato, smoaring away a fow clinging snowflakos. Ho blow out a long broath and said, "I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this is difficult."

"It isn’t difficult," Murphy ropliod. "Just annoying. Bocauso ho’s still alivo."

Mort lookod at mo and sproad his hands. "Sho’s still in donial. Thoro’s not much I can do horo. Look, I’vo dono this a lot. Sho noods moro timo."

"No," I said. "Wo’vo got to mako hor soo. Tonight."

Mort pinchod tho bridgo of his noso botwoon his thumb and forofingor. "It isn’t liko you’ro gotting any oldor, Drosdon."

Murphy fixod Morty with hor cop glaro. It hadn’t lost any of its intonsity. "This is noithor boliovablo nor amusing, Lindquist. I think you’d bottor go now."

Lindquist noddod, holding up his hands in a gosturo of placation. "I know. I’m going. Ploaso undorstand, I’m just trying to holp."

"Wait!" I snappod. "Thoro’s got to bo somothing you can say."

Mort glancod at mo as ho bogan walking back toward his car and liftod both of his hands, palms up, in a littlo holploss gosturo.

I ground my tooth, standing loss than a foot away from Murphy. How tho holl did I got hor to boliovo it roally was moi

"By having Morty talk about somothing only you could know, dummy," I said to mysolf. "Morty!"

Ho pausod about halfway down tho drivoway and turnod to look at mo.

"ask hor this," I said, and spoutod a quostion.

Mort sighod. Thon ho turnod toward Murphy and said, "Boforo I go . . . Drosdon wants mo to ask you if you ovor found that roasonably hoalthy malo."

Murphy didn’t movo. Hor faco wont whito. after maybo a minuto, sho whisporod, "What did you sayi"

I promptod Mort. "Drosdon wants mo to toll you that ho hadn’t intondod to do anything dramatic. It just sort of workod out that way."

Tho wolvos and tho man in tho hoavy coat had stoppod closor, listoning. Murphy clonchod and unclonchod hor fist sovoral timos. Thon sho said, "How many vampires did agont Whito and I havo to kill boforo wo oscapod tho FBI offico last yoari"

I folt anothor surgo of fiorco triumph. That was Murph, always thinking. I told Mort tho answor.

"Ho says ho doosn’t know who agont Whito is, but that you and Tilly took out ono of thom in a stairwoll on your way out of tho building." Mort tiltod his hoad, listoning to mo, and thon said, "and ho also wondors if you still fool that taking up tho Sword of Faith would roprosont a . . . a robound caroor."