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How to get there was the problem. I wasn’t keen on the idea of kicking the door down, and no one had left a ladder conveniently leaning against the building. I went into the office.

The man behind the desk was small, dark, and narrow-shouldered; he had a thin mustache like a movie star from the thirties. “How may I help you?” He had a slight British accent.

“I need a room.”

“Of course, sir. Do you have luggage?”

“In my car,” I said. “I’m looking for something specific. I need the lowest room you have, and I need it to be in the northeast corner of the building.”

“Ah. Are you concerned about feng shui?”

“No, I’m interested in the flow of energy in my living space.” He couldn’t quite suppress a smile, and I was happy to let him laugh at me. Being underestimated has saved my life more than once.

“We do have such a room.” He brought out the paperwork.

“Can I check it out first? For a few minutes alone? I’d like to meditate on it.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. I wasn’t that amusing. I paid for the room and promised to get my luggage after I checked out the flow. He gave me a plastic card to unlock the door.

I went up the stairs, gambling that if Fidel didn’t place a guy in the diner, he wouldn’t have one in the hall. And I was right. I paused at the door to Wally’s room and heard Fidel say that he couldn’t use that place anymore and they needed a new place. His voice was raised, as though he was arguing.

I didn’t listen for long. Getting caught with my ear at the door would be a bad thing. I walked quietly down the hall, feeling the sweat prickle on my back. The gold-painted walls and wine-colored carpet made me feel stifled, even if it was cooler inside than out.

I let myself into my room. It was two steps above utilitarian, with a floral print on the covers.

My hands started shaking. I clenched them into fists and pressed them against the dead flesh over my heart to control them. Wally was just on the other side of that wall, and my chance to kill him was coming soon. I had no idea what he was capable of, aside from walking through walls and puking a tiny monster onto me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. It would have been nice to have a better plan than Move fast hit hard, but what the hell. I would give it a shot, and if I failed, so be it. I just hoped I wouldn’t see any more of his tricks, if he had them.

I went to the balcony and looked across at the adjacent one. I could jump it and be close enough to eavesdrop, but I knew someone would catch me.

The ground was about fifteen feet below. If I missed the jump, I’d land just outside the manager’s office. I think he’d find me much less amusing after that.

I hurried into the bathroom to splash water on my face, then grabbed a glass off the sink and returned to the main room.

By my standards, the room was comfortable, but the walls were not terribly thick. I laid the glass against the wall and pressed my ear to it.

I’d seen this work on TV, but it wasn’t doing me a bit of good here. The voices in the next room were too muffled to understand, although I could tell that the argument was over.

“Seriously, Ray? A glass against the wall?”

I pivoted in surprise, dropping the glass onto the carpet. Arne was standing just behind me. He sat on the edge of the bed. “If you want to spy on people, you ought to order the right tool for the job. On the Internet you can get a pretty good listening device for a hundred bucks.”

My heart was racing, but I did my best to act calm. “Sure, but can you drink iced tea out of it, too?”

“You got me there.”

“I guess you finished your job?”

He rubbed his hands on his thighs. “No. This is just a quiet moment while I wait for the stupid people to catch up, so I thought I’d check on other things. What happened with that big guy?”

“Wardell? We’re best buds. He invited me over for a Golden Girls marathon.”

“I’ll bet.” He sighed. “You’ve developed a knack for slipping out of trouble, haven’t you? Didn’t you get snapped up by Uncle Sam a few months ago? After Washaway?”

I became very still. “Yes.”

“And what? They let you go?”

Not really. “Yes.”

“I guess they had to, huh? How’d you manage that?”

I’m on the twisted path. “They caught the real assholes. Nothing to do with me.”

Arne seemed amused by that. “You know what turns people into monsters, Ray? Knowing they can get away with anything. Once they realize they aren’t going to be punished for anything they do, the masks come off, baby, and the devils run free.”

I didn’t need anyone to tell me this. This was my life. I said: “It’s time to help me with my thing, right?” Arne spread his hands to say Why not? “Tell me how this started. Tell me about Wally.”

“But it didn’t start with Wally. It started with Luther.”

“He’s the guy you brought in to replace me, right?”

“Nobody replaced you, Ray. Your spot was open and waiting for you. Luther was just extra help. He was big, strong, and friendly—not that bright, but how many bright people do the work we do? Mostly he was loyal, as long as you put a couple of bucks in his pocket.

“Luther was hanging at the Bigfoot Room all by himself when Wally walked in. Wally dropped your name, which Luther recognized. After I don’t know how long, Luther called all of us at once: me, Fidel, Summer, the whole crew. Everyone but Vi and Melly met up at the Bigfoot Room. Wally made his pitch—he offered us a super power—and Luther was the living proof that it was real. He vanished right in front of us. All we had to do in return was a single favor. Luther’s excitement was infectious.

“I had a bad feeling about it, though, and I put him off for twenty-four hours. You know why.”

“Wally looks like a walking tumor and you didn’t want to end up like him.”

“Hell yeah. I’m a good-looking man. I can’t throw away a face like this. But Luther said that the powers Wally had were different from the invisibility thing. Bigger. He said Wally couldn’t vanish himself, which was why he needed our help.”

My mouth suddenly felt dry. “What powers does Wally have?”

Arne shrugged. “I don’t have a lot to tell you. You’d have to ask Lenard.”

“Why?”

“Well, Lenard doesn’t like victims to feel too comfortable around him. He likes them wide-eyed and sweating, right? And he starts thinking that your buddy Wally is too cheerful, so out of the blue he rushes the guy and knocks him over, right into the dirt. Then he starts screaming at him like a nutcase, ‘Don’t you dare smile at me! Don’t you fucking smile!’ And the rest of us are rolling our eyes at him.

“But your buddy just got to his feet and smiled at Lenard again, like a big fuck you. And Lenard, now he has to step up or he’ll look like he wimped out. So he gives Wally another shove.

“Except this time, your boy was ready and it didn’t even move him. It was like Lenard was pushing against an office building—he couldn’t even make a dent in the guy’s flabby man-titties. Almost like …”

I remembered the way the cook had hit the little red predator with his ladle, and how the creature didn’t move an inch. I keep them fed, and they share their little tricks with me. “Almost like nothing could move him if he didn’t want it to.”

“Yeah, and then there was this wave that came out of him—I’m not sure what to call it. It was like one of those old kung fu movies, where one dude shoves another without touching him. Lenard had his ass lifted off the ground and dropped into the dirt ten feet away. He didn’t know what to do about that, but Ty and Fidel took the heat off by making a joke of it. You’d have to talk to Lenard to find out what it felt like. I was just standing there watching.”