"I guessed," I corrected her. "Probably because I unconsciously recognized the family resemblance to Lord Raith. That's why I stopped you from touching him. There was no magical tip-off about it." I frowned. "Hell, I wouldn't be shocked if they had some kind of ability to cloud their prey's judgment. When Inari Raith tried to feed on me, even though I was in their freaking house, even though I knew she was a baby succubus, and in my room, it never really occurred to me that she might be dangerous to me, until it was too late."
"Just like that never occurred to me about Crane," Murphy said. "So the Skavis… he could be anyone."
"I'm pretty sure he's not me," I said. "I'm almost as sure he's not you."
"Are you sure you're a professional investigator?"
"I sometimes wonder."
"What about Thomas?" Murphy asked.
"He's more of a hired thug than a shamus."
Murphy glared.
It drew a little bit of a smile from me, but it faded quickly in the light of reality. "I left messages. Nothing yet."
"That's not what I meant, either," Murphy said quietly. "Could he still be involved? Could he have been the passenger?"
"He wasn't."
Again, she held up a hand. "Harry. Is it possible?"
"Look, we know the killer is a Skavis."
"We know what Grey Cloak thinks," Murphy corrected roe, "But you're forgetting something."
"What?"
"That at least one of those women was killed in the throes of supernatural passion. Not amidst fear. Not amidst despair."
I scowled at her.
"Is it physically possible, Harry? Possible. That's all I'm asking."
"I suppose," I said quietly. "But Thomas isn't Grey Cloak's partner. What if…" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"What if your passenger has him?" Murphy asked. "What if the 'endeavor' he's talking about is pressing Thomas for some kind of information?"
I grimaced. "Thomas should have been in touch by now."
"We've got a little time. Grey Cloak thought it would be another day or so before the Skavis moved again, right?"
"Yeah."
"So far, you think he's been smart about most things. Maybe he's smart about that, too."
"We can hope," I said. "What did you find about Jessica Blanche?"
"Still working on it. I've got feelers out, but I'll need to follow up with some legwork."
I blew out a breath. "And I need to get in touch with Elaine and the Ordo. Maybe I can get Helen Beckitt to talk. And I can make some calls to other Wardens. Maybe someone's heard something about recent White Court activities."
Murphy rose. "Sounds like we have a plan."
"If we repeat it often enough, maybe we'll even believe it," I said. "Let's go."
Chapter Seventeen
Ramirez's contact number went to a restaurant his family ran in eastern Los Angeles. I left a message with someone whose English sounded like a second or third language. It took Ramirez only about ten minutes to call me back.
"White Court?" my fellow Warden said. "Can't think as I've heard anything about them lately, Harry."
"How about a professional wizard investigator?" I asked him. "Works out of Los Angeles."
"Elaine Mallory?" he asked. "Tall, pretty, smart, and nearly as charming as myself?"
"That's the one," I said. "What do you know about her?"
"Far as I know, she's straight," he said. "Moved to town five or six years ago, college in San Diego, and working for an investigative agency out here. She's got a decent grounding in thaumaturgy from somewhere, but when I ran her through the standard tests, she didn't score quite high enough to be considered for Council membership." He was quiet for a second, before saying, in a tone of forced cheer, "Unless we keep on losing people to the vamps, in which case I guess we might lower our standards."
"Uh-huh," I said. "But you think she knows what she's doing?"
"Well," Ramirez drawled, "I hinted that she might want to advertise as something other than a 'wizard,' eventually. If we get the time to look away from the war, some hidebound dinosaur might take exception to someone claiming the title."
I snorted. "Don't call me a dinosaur. It isn't fair to the dinosaurs. What did a dinosaur ever do to you?"
"Other than give me a ride right next to this big skinny lunatic? Mallory's not stupid, and she's done people some good out here," Ramirez said. "Lost kids, especially. Couple of exorcisms I wouldn't have had time to handle. Maybe she can be of some help to you. Though I've got one reservation about her."
"What's that?" I asked.
"Her taste in men. I keep asking her out, and she's turned me down about a dozen times, now."
"Shocking," I said.
"I know," Ramirez replied. "Makes me wonder how smart she could really be. Why?"
I gave him the brief on what I knew about the murders, and on what Elaine had told me about the other cities.
"Someone's framing the Wardens," he said.
"Looks that way. Sow seeds of distrust and all that."
"Five cities. Bastards." He paused to say something off the phone, and then told me, "Hang on. I'm pulling the file on recent White Court reports."
I waited a few more minutes. Then he came back and said, "According to what we've heard out on this end, the White King has met with emissaries from the Council under a flag of truce, and declared a temporary cease-fire. He's agreed to approach the Reds about sitting down to negotiate an end to the war."
"I've met him," I said. "Kissinger he ain't. Gandhi, neither."
"Yeah. Sorta makes you wonder what he's getting out of the war ending, don't it."
I grunted. "There's not a lot of love lost between the Reds and the Whites. A cease-fire won't cost him anything. His people don't get involved in the messy stuff anyway."
Ramirez let out a thoughtful hum. "The way you tell it, looks like maybe not everybody in the White Court agrees with his take on the war."
"They're pretty factional. Triumvirate of major houses. Raith happens to be on top right now. If Raith is pushing for peace, it would be consistent for the other major houses to oppose it."
"Gotta love those vampires. So arbitrarily contrary."
"Say that five times fast," I said.
He did, flawlessly, rolling the Rs as he went. "See there?" he said. "That's why the ladies love me."
"It's not love, Carlos. It's pity."
"As long as the pants come off," he said cheerfully. Then his voice turned more sober. "Dresden, I've been meaning to call you. Just… wanted to see how you were doing. You know. Since New Mexico."
"I'm good," I told him. "I'm fine."
"Uh-huh," Ramirez said. He sounded skeptical.
"Listen," I said. "Forget New Mexico. I've forgotten it. We need to move on, focus on what's in front of us right now."
"Sure," he said, without conviction. "You want to fill in the Captain or should I?"
"Go ahead."
"Will do," he said. "You need any backup out there?"
"Why?" I asked. "You got nothing to pay attention to where you are?"
He sighed. "Yeah, well. All the same. If the Whites are trying to shut down the peace talks, I could pry a few of the boys loose to come help you boot some head."
"Except I don't yet know whose head it is or how to boot it," I said.
"I know. But if you need help, it's here."
"Thanks."
"Watch your ass, Dresden," he said.
"I'd tell you to do the same, but you probably gaze at your own ass in admiration all the time anyway."