69

“This is what we learned,” John Stretch said. “They were sent to keep an eye on Garrett, the thinking being that even my people would pay no attention. They have a long history with this employer, whose identity they would not give up, possibly because they don’t know it.”

“Cheap,” Moonblight grumbled, evidently to herself. Her intensity said she thought she might know who. Maybe she knew somebody who had a habit of employing grays. She didn’t want to share, though trying to hide anything in my house was futile.

Or maybe she was just feeling the beer.

She should have eaten that sausage.

She thinks her sister was responsible. The timing is intriguing. I cannot determine when contact could have been made. Grays have almost no grasp of time, relative or exact. Past and future become entangled with the present.

But?

Indeed. Oddments in Niea’s mind suggest Moonslight made occasional nighttime visits to Chattaree.

So why didn’t he react to Moonslight’s twin when we showed up?

He never saw her. He is the day man. He heard talk. Nor did Moonblight behave as though she was intimate with someone inside. He has not developed a conscious suspicion, but he has begun to feel an itch.

That’s what Old Bones is good for. Making connections, probably not only with stuff from inside Niea’s head but also clutter from the shadows in Tara Chayne’s, spiced with whatever he got from the rest of us.

Tara Chayne began to grunt and scowl. She muttered, “The more you get done, the more they want you to do.”

Penny stuck her head in. “The dogs are done eating. I’ll get them ready to go.”

So. Playmate and Hagekagome had arrived. Penny had put them in with the Dead Man.

Exactly. Get a move on.

“A move on? What, where, and why?”

“We are now off to see my sister. To rescue her if we’re asked. Actually, maybe, to capture her and drag her bony ass back here.”

I was confused.

Not unusual, sadly. Please hurry.

“Just me and Tara Chayne? Against the Operators?”

Indeed. They are old. You are fast on your feet and fierce, and you will be accompanied by four savage hellhounds. And, likely, by half the Specials and Relway Runners infesting TunFaire.

“But. .”

Quickly. Speed is essential. They may move her when they hear that these four have been captured.

Damn! Oh yeah! More of their kind might be coming around.

Singe said, “Then I have to go, too.” She worked herself out from behind her desk, then through the crowd. John Stretch gestured to Dollar Dan. Dan nodded. He stepped into the hallway to await the body he would guard.

Singe snarled in exasperation.

She doesn’t want to be treated like a girl.

I said, “Don’t waste time arguing. Put on your walking shoes.”

Penny announced, “I want to come, too.”

I need you here, dear.

“I can take care of myself.”

Indeed. I would not question that for a moment. You should certainly do better than some members of the party. You use your head to a purpose higher than damaging fists and nightsticks. But I do require your assistance. Singe and Garrett will be out of the house while we have outsiders on the premises. Dean cannot handle them if they become unruly.

Meaning Dean was too feeble to chuck the bodies out by himself if badly behaving guests had to be tossed overboard.

Penny turned surly but acquiesced.

I wondered if Himself did truly need her or just wanted his pet kept out of harm’s way.

He didn’t clue me in. He did give me a swift mental kick to get me moving.

Pouting, Penny headed for the back of the house. Tara Chayne and I scouted a route to the front door. Dollar Dan twitched nervously while watching for Singe to catch up. He lurked in the open doorway while we two stood snarling on the stoop, watching an unfamiliar teen boy mess with the horses in full view of a couple of tin whistles who did nothing about it.

Moonblight spat, muttered angrily, considered doing something that would have been unpleasant for the boy. Then she cocked her head, listening.

The Dead Man was on the job. The boy eased past us on the steps, eyes on Penny, who awaited him with a smile. He was too scared to appreciate that, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

Old Bones didn’t waste mental capacity letting me know what was going on with the boy. Nor did I much care just then.

Brownie and crew charged out of the breezeway. Well, she and the nameless pair charged. Number Two sauntered, not at all eager to seek further adventure. She wanted to be napping in the shade while the flies buzzed round.

I told her, “Stay here if you like.”

Big, dumb-eyed stare. And maybe a doggy sneer. No. No way.

I needed to get shot of her. Really. She thought I might do something wicked to her pals if she wasn’t there to stop me.

Tara Chayne fished something out from under my saddle blanket. “Oh, lookee.” It was leather, sticky on one side, had odd figures inked onto the other, skin side. They might have been tattooed there while the skin’s owner was still warm. “You and the bitch certainly are two of a kind, aren’t you? My. This is another tracer from that same craftsman.”

Number Two and I glared at each other. That snap had been hard on us both.

Tara Chayne cocked her head again. “Ah. He was just paid to install the patch. He doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t care. He was hired by some generic ‘old guy.’”

Ah, the sharp eyes of youth. “That does reduce the suspect pool.”

Tara Chayne tucked the leather tracer into a pocket. “I’ll use it to start a false trail later.”

“Think it was the Operators?”

“Probably. But you have to wonder how the little girl does it, too.”

I should. Now that it had come up. It seemed she only watched, but how did she know where to be?

“Where is that woman of yours?”

Woman? Of mine?

It took a few seconds.

Amazing lack of prejudice in the old gal now, when there were no rat people to witness. She meant Singe.

Dollar Dan missed it. He was still on the stoop, getting restless, too.

Tara Chayne said, “We’ll walk the horses. They’re worn out.” And our rat companions couldn’t keep up if we rode.

Singe turned up wearing a complete new outfit. She had gone for an adventuress look, tan and plain, with one of my old hats slit to fit her ears. She carried a staff that I hadn’t seen before, made of bamboo strips bound and glued together. It had to be eight feet long. I stared but didn’t comment. Maybe she had a blade for its end hidden down her pants leg.

Any red top who got close would wonder, too.

Singe would have been grinning were she made that way. Her body language practically screamed that she was in a great good mood. She went out of her way to be nice to Dollar Dan.

Dan had decided to back off and bank the fire. He would become part of the environment, which was his job assignment anyway.

Singe was amused. She was bright enough to recognize the new strategy.

I think she was secretly flattered.

I began to suspect that there was a marginal chance that Dan could wear her down.

On the other hand, I doubted that he had enough time. He was mortal.

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