“I wonder if you might have a few moments.”
The terror of the Midwest Arcane whirled to face me, and her face broke into a cherubic grin. She was a little over five feet tall, pleasantly plump, and of Asian ancestry. She had a sparkling smile, thick glasses, curly black hair, and was wearing a pair of denim overalls over an old Queensryche T-shirt. Her tennis shoes had bright pink laces on them. “Harry Dresden,” she said. She had a sort of breathless, bubbling voice, the kind that seemed like it could barely contain laughter beneath almost every word. “Hah. I knew this one smelled right.”
“Could be,” I said. I hadn’t been real forthcoming with Lydia. It hadn’t worked out well with reporters in the past. Whenever I spoke to her, little daggers of guilt stabbed at me, reminders that I could not afford to let careless words get her into too much trouble. Despite that, we’d gotten along, and I’d never lied to her. I hadn’t bothered to try. “You busy?”
She gestured at the bag whose strap hung over her shoulder. “I’ve got recordings, and I’ll want to jot down some notes shortly.” She tilted her head to one side. “Why do you ask?”
“I need a thug to scare some guys for me,” I said.
The dimples in her cheeks deepened. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Do this for me. I’ll give you ten minutes on this.” I waved my hand vaguely at the hotel around us. “As soon as I have some time free.”
Her eyes brightened. “Done,” she said. “What do I do?”
“Hang around outside a doorway and…” I grinned. “Just be yourself.”
“Good. I can do that.” She nodded once, curls bouncing, and followed me to the room where they were grilling my friend’s daughter.
I opened the door like I owned the place and walked in.
The room wasn’t a big one-maybe the size of a large elementary-school classroom. There was a raised platform about a foot high at one end, with chairs on it behind a long table. More chairs faced it in rows. A sign, now discarded on the floor behind the door, declared that the room was scheduled for something called “Filking” between noon and five o’clock today. “Filking” sounded suspiciously like it might be an activity somehow related to spawning salmon, or maybe some kind of bizarre mammalian discussion. I decided that it was probably one of those things I was happier not knowing.
Greene was in the room, standing on the platform with his arms folded, a sour frown on his face. Molly sat in the first row of chairs, still in the same clothes as the night before. She looked tired. She’d been crying.
Next to her was a man of medium build and unremarkable height, with brown hair just tousled enough to be fashionable. He wore a grey suit, its gravity somewhat offset by a black tie that featured Marvin the Martian. I recognized him. Rick, Murphy’s ex. He stood over Molly, passing her a cup of water, the good cop of the usual interrogation equation. He was here in his official capacity, then. Agent Rick.
“Excuse me,” Greene said, without looking over at me. “This room isn’t open to the public.”
“It isn’t?” I said, overly ingenuous. “Man. I was really looking forward to a nice afternoon of filking, too.”
Molly looked up, and her eyes widened in recognition and what looked like sudden hope. “Harry!”
“Heya, kid,” I told her, and ambled in, Mouse in tow. The dog went right over to Molly, wagging his tail and subtly begging for affection by thrusting his broad muzzle underneath her folded hands. Molly let out a little laugh and leaned down, hugging the dog, talking baby talk to him like she did to her youngest siblings.
Greene turned to glower at me. After a moment, Agent Rick did too.
“Dresden,” Greene said, his tone peremptory. “You are interfering in an investigation. Get out.”
I ignored him to speak to Molly. “How’s Rosie?”
She left her cheek on top of Mouse’s broad head and said, “Unconscious. She was very upset by the news and the doctors gave her something to help her sleep. They were afraid she would freak out and it would hurt the baby.”
“Dresden,” Greene snarled.
“Best thing for her right now,” I told Molly. “She’ll handle it better when she’s had some rest.”
She nodded and said, “I hope so.”
Greene spat a curse and reached for his radio, presumably to summon goons.
Greene was an ass.
Maybe I was going a little hex-happy, but I muttered something under my breath and made a little effort. Sparks shot out of the radio and were followed by curls of smoke. Greene stood there cursing as he tried to get the thing to work. “Dammit, Dresden,” he snarled. “Get out before I have you taken downtown.”
I kept ignoring him. “Hi there, Rick. How was the wedding?”
“That’s it,” Greene said.
Rick pursed his lips and then held up a hand toward Greene, a placating gesture. “Everyone survived it,” Agent Rick responded, studying me with a steady frown, looking between me and Molly. “Harry, we’re working here. You should go.”
“Yeah?” I asked. I plopped down into the chair beside Molly and grinned at him. “I’m thinking maybe not. I mean, I’m working, too. I’m a consultant.”
“You’re obstructing an investigation, Dresden,” Greene growled. You’re going to lose your jobs with the city. Your investigative license. Hell, I’ll even get you stuck in jail for a month or two.“
“No you won’t.”
“Have it your way, tough guy,” Greene said, and started for the door.
Molly, maybe taking it for a cue, rose herself.
“Sit down,” Greene said, his voice hard. “You aren’t finished yet.”
She hesitated for a second and then sat.
“Greene, Greene, Greene,” I said. “There’s something you’re missing here.”
He paused. Agent Rick watched me steadily.
“See, Miss Carpenter here can go any time she damned well pleases.”
“Not until she’s answered a few questions,” he said.
I made a game-show buzzing sound. “Wrong. This is a free country. She can walk out and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it. Unless you want to arrest her.” I grinned at him some more. “You didn’t arrest her, did you?”
Molly watched the exchange from the corner of her vision, being very still and keeping her face down.
“We’re questioning her in relation to an ongoing investigation,” Rick said.
“Yeah? One of you guys got the subpoena, then?”
They hadn’t, of course. No one spoke.
“See, you’re the one out on a limb here, Greene. You’ve got nothing on the young lady. No court order. You haven’t arrested her. So anything she chooses to tell you is entirely voluntary.”
Molly blinked up at me. “It is?”
I put a hand to my chest and mimed an expression of shock. “Greene! I can hardly believe this. Did you lie to this young woman to frighten her? To make her think she was under arrest?”
“I didn’t lie,” Greene snarled.
“You just led her on,” I said, nodding. “Sure, sure. Not your fault if she interpreted you wrong. Say, let’s go back and check the tape and see where the mistake was.” I paused. “You are recording this, aren’t you? All on the record and aboveboard?”
Greene looked at me like he wanted to kick my nuts up into my skull. “You’ve got nothing but speculation. Get out. Or, as lead investigator, I will have you barred from the hotel.”
“That a threat?” I asked him.
“Believe it.”
I made a show of rubbing at my mouth. “Oh, man. I’m having quite the moral quandary. Because if you do that to me, then hell, maybe the press would find out that you’re dismissing professional consultants with a positive track record with the city.” I leaned forward and added casualty