“But… but…”
“Think of your homecoming as an extended lesson in respect and self-control,” I said cheerfully. “I’ll be checking up with your parents at least weekly. You’ll do lessons with me every day until school is back in, and then I’ll give you reading and homework for the-”
“Homework?” she half wailed.
“Don’t interrupt. The homework will only be on weekdays. We’ll do lessons on Friday and Saturday evenings.”
“Friday and Satur…” She trailed off into a sigh and slumped. “Hell. I am in Hell.”
“It gets better. I take it that you’re sexually active?”
She stood there with her mouth hanging open.
“Come on, Molly, this is important. Do you boink?”
Her face turned pink and she hid her face in her hands. “I… I… well. I’m a virgin.”
I arched an eyebrow at her.
She glanced up at me, blushed more, and added, “Technically.”
“Technically,” I said.
“Urn. I’ve… explored. Most of the bases.”
“I see,” I said. “Well, Magellan, no baserunning or boldly going where no man has gone before for you-not until you get yourself grounded. Sex makes things complicated, and for you that could be bad.”
“But…”
“And no, ah, solo exploration either.”
She blinked at me and asked in a blank tone, “Why?”
“You’ll go blind,” I said, and walked up to her front porch.
“You’re joking,” she said, and then hurried to catch up. “That’s a joke, right? Harry?”
I marched her up to her house without answering her. Molly wore a hopeless look on her face, as though she envied a condemned criminal, who could at least hope that the governor might call at the last minute. But when the doors opened and her family’s delight washed over her in a roar like a breaking wave, she smiled from her eyes all the way down to her toes.
I made polite chat for a minute, until Mouse limped over to me, smiling and wagging his tail. There was something on his muzzle that I suspected to be honey mustard, or maybe buffalo sauce, doubtless slipped to him by a young accomplice. I clipped his lead on him and took my leave, heading back to my car.
Before I got there, Charity caught up with me. I arched an eyebrow at her and waited while she fidgeted and finally asked, “Did you tell them? About what I was?”
“Of course not,” I said.
She slumped a little in relief. “Oh.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
She frowned at me and said, “If you hurt my little girl, I’ll come down to that little closet you call an office and throw you out the window. Do you understand?”
“Death by defenestration, gotcha.”
A few tiny cracks developed in her frown, and then she shook her head sharply, once, caught me in a hug that made my ribs ache, and went back into the house without another word.
Mouse sat there panting and grinning happily.
I went home and got some sleep.
I was working in my lab the next day, trying to make notes of all that had happened so that I wouldn’t forget anything. Bob sat on the table next to me, helping me with the details.
“Oh,” he said. “I found something wrong with Little Chicago’s design.”
I swallowed. “Oh. Wow. Bad?”
“Extremely. We missed a transition coupling in the power flow. The stored energy was all going to the same spot.”
I frowned. “That’s… like a surge of electricity going through a circuit breaker, right? Or a fuse box.”
“Exactly like that,” Bob said. “Except that you were the fuse. That much energy in one spot will blow your head off your shoulders.”
“But it didn’t,” I said.
“But it didn’t,” Bob agreed.
“How is that possible?”
“It isn’t,” he said. “Someone fixed it.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“It didn’t fix itself,” Bob said. “When I looked at it a few nights ago, the flawed section was in plain sight, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time. When I looked again tonight, it was different. Someone changed it.”
“In my lab? Under my house? Which is behind my wards? That’s impossible.”
“No it isn’t,” Bob said. “Just really, really, really, really, really, really difficult. And unlikely. He would have had to know that you had a lab down here. And he would have had to know how to get around your wards.”
“Plus intimate knowledge of the design to tinker with it like that,” I said. “To say nothing of the fact that he would have to know it existed at all, and no one does.”
“Really, really unlikely,” Bob agreed.
“Dammit.”
“Hey, I thought you loved a good mystery, Harry.”
I shook my head and started to tell him where to stick his mystery when someone knocked at the door.
Murphy stood on the other side and smiled at me. “Hey.” She held up my shotgun. “Thomas wanted me to bring this by. Said to tell you he was getting his own toys from now on.”
She offered it and I took it, frowning. “He didn’t even clean it off.”
She smiled. “I swear, Dresden. You can be such a pansy.”
“It’s because I’m a sensitive guy. You want to come in?”
She gave me another smile, but shook her head. “No time. Got to see the first shrink in half an hour.”
“Ah,” I said. “How are things playing out?”
“Oh, there’s a long investigation and evaluation to be done,” she said. “Officially, of course.”
“Of course,” I said.
“But unofficially…” She shrugged. “I’m losing SI. They’re busting me down to detective sergeant.”
I winced. “Who’s getting the job?”
“Stallings, most likely. He’s the next most experienced, better record than most of the department, and he’s respected.” She looked away “I’m losing my seniority, too. All of it. So they’re partnering me with their most experienced detective.”
“Which is that?” I asked.
“Rawlins,” she said, her mouth moving in a tight smile. “He did so good on this one they promoted him to SI.”
“No good deed goes unpunished,” I said.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Murphy sighed.
“That a bad thing? He seems like a decent guy.”
“He is, he is,” Murphy said, scrunching up her nose. “But he knew my father.”
“Oh,” I said. “And it’s possible you have issues.”
“Remotely,” she said. “What about you? You okay?”
I met her eyes for a second and then looked away. “I, uh. I’ll be okay.”
She nodded, and then simply stepped forward and hugged me. My arms went around her without me telling them to do it. It wasn’t a tense, meaning-laden hug. She was my friend. She was exhausted and worried and suffering, and she’d had what she valued most sullied and stained, but she was worried about me. Giving me a hug. Assuring me, by implication, that everything was going to be all right.
I gave as good as I got for a while. When we broke the embrace, it was at the same time, and it wasn’t awkward. She smiled at me, just a little bittersweet, and glanced at her watch. “I have to get moving.”
“Right,” I said. “Thanks, Murph.”
She left. A while later, my phone rang. I answered it.
“Everything work out?” Thomas asked. “With the girl?”
“Pretty much,” I told him. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Need anything?” Like maybe to talk about how he was feeding on people again and making money at the same time.
“Not especially,” he told me. I was pretty sure he had heard the unasked question, because his tone of voice carried an unyielding coolness, telling me not to push. Thomas was my brother. I could wait.