Peace Talks (The Dresden Files, #16)(81)

He accepted the note, glanced at it once, and handed it back to her. “And why are you trusting this guy again?”

“It’s possible that Lara is playing games with me,” I said. “So her people might be behind it. The local cops are probably in Marcone’s pocket, and I don’t trust him any further than I can kick him. I don’t know why the Feds are involved or who is pushing them, but even though I like Tilly, he’s a square and this seems like a damned odd play for him. And I’ve never really been comfortable dealing with government agents.”

“Ah,” Grey said. “And the Internet guy is safe?”

“Paranoid Gary is a creep and a weirdo, but he’s our creepy weirdo,” I said. “If he’s the one doing the hacking thing, he can probably assist you. If it isn’t him doing it, he can probably find out who it is.”

“If he will,” Murphy said.

“Sure,” Grey said, almost jovially. “Because paranoid.” He shook his head. “Well. You don’t ever bore me, Dresden.”

“I’m good like that,” I said.

“At least you pay well,” he said, and nodded to Murphy. “Ma’am.”

“You’re going to need someone to relieve you eventually,” Murphy said.

“Only if we do this for a couple of weeks,” he said. He nodded to her; then he got out of the Munstermobile and walked back to his old Jeep.

“Useful guy,” she noted as Grey cranked up the vehicle and left, turning back toward Chicago.

“Very.”

“You trust him?”

“Well. I hired him. I trust him to live up to that.”

“So did Nicodemus,” Murphy noted. “But someone else had hired him first. So what if someone else hired him first, again?”

I grimaced. “Thanks for bringing that up.”

“You’re a good person, Harry. You trust people too easily.” She shifted in her seat, wincing.

“The leg?” I asked.

“Hip,” she said shortly. “Don’t forget your cold medicine.”

Murphy had given me something that promised to remove mucus and sneezing and coughing and aching for eight hours at a time, about seven hours ago. I opened the little bottle and took more of it.

“Are we getting old?” I asked her. “Is this what that’s like?”

She smiled slightly and shook her head. “It is what it is.” She eyed me. “Do you think Lara is behind this?”

“My instinct says no. But she’s tricky enough to try it, and it’s called treachery because you don’t see it coming,” I said. “Wow, though. She’s standing really close to Mab’s toes on this one, no matter how you look at it.”

“How she reacts to the proposal is going to tell us a lot,” Murphy said.

“You ever get involved in one of my cases and find yourself drowning in an overabundance of information?” I asked.

She snorted. “Point.”

“It might tell us something,” I said. “Best we can hope for.”

“We’re moving ahead blind,” she noted.

“Maybe.” I pulled the car back onto the road and toward the highway. “But there’s no use in wasting time.”





24


Freydis met us at the door of Chateau Raith and said, “Seriously? You just drive here and walk up to the front door? Obvious much?”

“Aw,” I said. “It’s so cute when you guys try to employ the vernacular. It’s just never quite on point. You know?”

The ginger Valkyrie gave me a narrow-eyed look and said, “Don’t make me stop this car.”

“Somehow worse and better at the same time,” I said approvingly.

Freydis snorted. “Who is the mortal?”

“Please,” Murphy said. “You know who I am, and you know what I do.”

Freydis showed her teeth. “The Einherjaren like you, Ms. Murphy. But that doesn’t give you a pass. This is an internal matter. You aren’t coming into it.”

“I already have,” Murphy said. “Years ago. Unless Ms. Raith would prefer me to make a non-secret of her open secret about her father.”

“Are you threatening my employer?” Freydis asked in a very level tone.

“I am a threat to your employer,” Murphy replied calmly. “But there’s no reason we can’t be civilized about it.”

“I could kill you right now,” Freydis noted.

“You could try,” Murphy answered. “But however that turned out, your boss would be working without Dresden’s help.”

Freydis narrowed her eyes and then looked at me. “What do you say, Dresden?”

“Good morning,” I said. “Nothing further to add.”

“The woman speaks for you?”

“For herself. But I don’t see the point in repeating her.”

“Her injuries …” Freydis began.

Murphy didn’t seem to move quickly, but everything happened with smooth precision as she stepped forward and to one side. She drove the elbow of her injured arm at Freydis’s midsection. It didn’t hit hard, but it forced the Valkyrie’s balance off, and Murphy followed up with a step into her as her cane clattered to the porch. She stepped into the Valkyrie, pinning her against the side of the doorway—and Murphy’s gun came out and nestled up under Freydis’s chin.