“I’ll look forward to that,” Gus said. “You haven’t told me why you were at Nat Archer’s office.”
She did tell him. Sometimes rushing, sometimes halting, Marley made her way through the story of her travels to the cold room, and she waited for Gus to become dismissive, or to be politely disbelieving.
“Your family has been through a lot,” he said. “It’s never easy when you don’t fit into any mold. You lucked out again, Gray—this one could be a keeper.”
Marley wanted to ask him why he’d think that, but knew better.
“Things are moving even while they don’t seem to be,” Gus said. “You two are tryin’ to make things go faster than they’re meant to. While you’re doing your thing, the cops are busy, and the rest of them. Wouldn’t be surprised if our old friend Dr. Death is having a hand in something.”
Gray’s laugh was more a bark. “Nat says I’m going to call Blades that one day.” He didn’t seem surprised by anything Gus said.
“You already did, remember?”
“Nat meant I could get careless enough to do it again.” He turned to Marley. “Blades is the chief medical examiner. Not a man with a big sense of humor.”
“Doesn’t sound like he’s got such a funny job,” Marley said. She was edgy and growing edgier. There was a subtle change in the atmosphere. Elements moved, grew agitated.
She needed to be somewhere else.
The sensation disoriented her and confused her at the same time. She felt exposed.
“Almost forgot,” Gus said suddenly. “That back gate keeps banging. I think it’s unlatched.”
Gray nodded and went outside without a word.
The instant they were alone, Gus said, “I meant it when I said he never brought anyone home before. He’s been through a lot, had things happen to him that would damage most people for good.”
Marley swallowed. “We only met yesterday—”
“So I’m imagining there’s something strong going on with you two already?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. I can’t do anything about any of it, but trust my instincts. They’ve usually been good. If it looks like you’re going somewhere together, make sure you mean it. Otherwise back off. He won’t push it if he isn’t serious.”
“I understand.” She thought she did, but wished she didn’t feel a little sick with apprehension.
“Good,” Gus said. “He’s coming back. Good-looking boy…man.”
“He’d be mad if he heard you say that, but yes, he is.”
“Gate’s shut,” Gray said when he stepped back into the room.
“Don’t get bent out of shape with Nat for doing his job,” Gus said. “He doesn’t think you had anything to do with the disappearances, but until he’s got someone else to focus on, you’re it.”
“He’s not amusing me,” Gray said.
“I don’t suppose you liked it when he didn’t take Marley seriously, either,” Gus said. “Don’t forget who his girlfriend is. He’s taken a lot of flack for that.”
“Glinda the good witch?” Gray said.
Gus shook his head. “Is he still calling Wazoo that Oz stuff? She’d hate it if she knew.”
“She probably does,” Gray said. “She seems to know most things.”
Gus turned to Marley. “Nat Archer’s girlfriend, Wazoo, is…well, she’s different and Nat thinks the world of her, so why should one more woman with psychic talents be so hard for him to believe?”
Marley didn’t know how to respond.
Gray stared at him. “Yeah. Why?”
“I think he probably does believe Marley, but if he intends to try to use her, he’s decided to keep it quiet until he can do it without the department getting wind of it.”
“Use her?” Gray said. His frown was ominous. “The hell he’ll use her. It’s too dangerous.”
Marley cleared her throat. “That will be for me to decide,” she told him. “I don’t do anything if I don’t want to.”
“I want you to stay out of it,” Gray said.
He didn’t even show signs of chagrin, Marley noted. Amazing. “I appreciate your concern. Now I have to get home. It’s been nice to meet you, Mr. Fisher.”
“Call me Gus. Will you come back, please? You don’t have to bring him.”
Gray shook his head at his father. “Come on, Marley. I’ll see you home.”
She decided not to refuse.
A clear rush of awareness warned her that a family member was asking to make contact. She opened reception. “Who is it?”
“Uncle Pascal.”
This wasn’t going to work, having Sykes lead Uncle Pascal to her. “You and Sykes are in my black book. Now, please leave. I’m in the middle of something.”
“This is short. There’s a policeman looking for you. Detective Nat Archer. Says he needs you fast.”
Chapter 22
Gray insisted on going with Marley to see Nat.
Willow waited for their cab a block from the precinct house. Her lime-green accents were impossible to miss. She stood on a corner drinking from a green plastic bottle, apparently oblivious to the thick veil of mugginess that had settled on the city.
At her feet with a familiar disgruntled glower on her face, sat Winnie. Her favorite, Great-Dane-size plastic bone propped her mouth wide-open.
A beer truck backed up in front of the precinct and the driver took advantage of the pause to sing along louder with KWOZ.
“I guess the dog’s your boss,” Gray said.
“Yep.” Willow had called when they were leaving Gus to say Winnie had been searching for Marley all day and was going into a decline. If “decline” meant a dog looked sleek, shiny-eyed, well-fed and pissed, then Winnie could be in one.
“Your sister’s different from you,” Gray said.
Marley hoped he was only referring to Willow’s glaring green-and-white uniform, but suspected it could be something else.
“What’s she angry about?” he continued.
She looked at him sharply. He must have picked up an undercurrent when he met Willow in the shop. “Maybe I’ll explain one day. Let’s get out here.”
They left the cab and hurried the last few yards. Rather than leap with joy at the sight of Marley, Winnie turned her back, thumping Willow’s shin with one end of the massive plastic bone in the process.
“Winnie,” Marley said, running to greet the spoiled little beast. “Don’t you love being with Auntie Willow anymore?”
Marley scratched her dog’s head. Immediately, Winnie all but threw herself into Willow’s arms, snuffling and managing to sound as if she was sobbing. She didn’t let go of her bone.
“Hey, sis,” Willow said, grinning. “This dog is what you made her.”
“She’s what you’ve helped her become,” Marley said, giving Willow a poke in her ribs. “We’ve ruined her perfectly. Thanks for bringing her to me.”
Willow stood and looked up at Gray. Marley was short, but Willow was shorter, and Gray’s face was a very long way up for her. She studied him speculatively, took a step or two back and gave him a slow once-over. “Mmm,” was all she said.
“Are you going right back to the shop?” Marley said, taking hold of Winnie’s leash. She was anxious for Willow to leave.
“One of my people called in sick,” Willow said. “I’ve had to take her jobs all day. I’ve still got an apartment to do on Clay. We only work in the Quarter,” she informed Gray.
“What do you do?”
“I own a maid service,” Willow said. “Mean ’n Green. D’you live in the Quarter?”
Marley wanted to shake her sister. Willow never missed an opportunity to look for business.
“Marigny. My dad would really like you and we’ve been looking for someone. We’d send a cab for you.”
Marley ground her back teeth.
Willow crossed one green-and-white hightop sneaker over the other and deep thought furrowed her brow.
“Of course, you don’t go out of the Quarter,” Gray said, “I understand.”
“You’re so busy,” Marley said, imagining Gus sparring with Willow—and some of the things Willow might decide to share. “You wouldn’t be able to do the job yourself.”