The Law (The Dresden Files #17.4)(9)

Will looked willfully patient. “My point is, Gary, are you in any danger?”

Gary shrugged, a jerky movement of shoulders constantly held too tightly. “No more than usual. I think.”

Will grimaced and looked at me. “What do you think?”

“Lawyer Winter-Winter is likely from Faerie,” I said.

“You’re the Winter Knight,” he said. “Can’t you order him off the case?”

I shook my head. “Doesn’t work like that. I don’t really have any institutional authority in Winter. Just responsibility.”

“Seems unfair,” Will said.

“Seems like Winter,” I replied. “The upside is that Winter is the kind of place where whoever punches hardest generally gets his way, and I can punch pretty hard. There aren’t a lot of beings there who I’m afraid to rumble with.”

Paranoid Gary looked disgusted. “God. That’s so twentieth century.”

I shrugged.

“So,” Will said. “You can go warn this guy off?”

“Worth a shot,” I said, eyeing the packet of printouts Gary had assembled. “And he has an office. Which is open four whole hours per week.”

“Keep reading,” Gary said. “There’s a security camera across the street. He’s there most days. He just doesn’t see people.”

I kept reading. There were even pictures—grainy, even more so than the usual security camera imagery I’d seen. I took note of the timestamps in the corners. There was a receptionist, a physically exceptional woman, and pictures of a man in a suit, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to recognize either of them based on the quality of the images.

“Can’t you, like, enhance these?”

“No,” Gary said flatly. “Because I don’t have imaginary movie powers.”

Paranoid Gary was an irascible creep. But he was a capable irascible creep. He’d tipped me off that the lawyer was from the supernatural side of the street, probably a familiar street at that, and gotten me an address. He’d done it quickly, too.

And besides. You don’t help people sand off any rough edges by telling them how much they suck. I’d hadn’t always been so different from the kid.

“Gary,” I said, “you did good work. This is going to help a lot. Thank you.”

He blinked at me. Then he looked, if possible, even more uncomfortable, and started avoiding eye contact like mad. “Yeah. Sure. You know. You save the city and stuff. I can do a little. My part.”

I glanced up at Will, who had been watching me. He gave me an almost imperceptible smile and nod of approval.

“We do game nights every Thursday,” I said. “Card games, board games, sometimes RPGs. Me and the Alphas, couple of the Carpenter kids, and some of the neighborhood families living here after the bad guys wrecked their homes last month. There’s pizza. You should come by.”

Paranoid Gary shrugged. “Don’t suppose you play any net-based games.”

“Nah,” I said. “Old school. Face to face.”

“Old school,” Gary muttered, as if it was a profane phrase. He glanced up at me for a second. “Real pizza?”

“Homemade,” I said. “We use croissant mix for the crusts and the good cheese. Messy as hell and you need a fork.”

He frowned at that, and then said, “Huh. Maybe I’ll try some.”

Behind Gary’s back, Will gave me a thumbs-up.





Chapter Seven





I went to Talvi Inverno’s office just south of the Gold Coast in the Munstermobile and made no secret of it, parking across the street and walking openly up to the front door wearing my big black leather duster and carrying my wizard’s staff in my left hand. In my world, it was the same as showing up in tactical armor and holding an assault rifle. So, when I knocked politely, I was making a couple of statements at the same time.

No one came to the door in response to my first knock. I knocked again and waited. No one showed up. I knocked a third time and waited politely. Then I took a step back from the door and pointed one end of my staff at it.

The intercom crackled and crinkled with static noise, and a man’s voice with a faint accent said, “Wait, wait. There’s no sense in wrecking the architecture.”

I lowered my staff amiably and waited.

Heels clicked on the floor and the receptionist opened the door to the office. She had wheat-colored hair and eyes in the same shade, and she looked fantastic in a houndstooth business dress. The hairs on the back of my neck went up. So did other things. She offered me her hand in a friendly fashion. I stared at it for a second, then up at her. I didn’t know what she was, but anything that carried a potent sexual whammy like that as a mere aura around it was likely to be dangerous to touch.

“No thanks, no offense meant,” I said. “Harry Dresden to see Talvi Inverno.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ve heard of you, Mister Dresden. The famous wizard.”

“I haven’t heard of you,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Ms. Lapland,” called a rich voice from inside. “Please show our guest in with all courtesy.”

“Yes, sir,” the woman said, staring at me with a very odd expression, something somewhere between outrage and hunger. “Follow me.”