Gilded Latten Bones

Belinda said, 'Is it too much to ask that you just relax and listen, Garrett? What possible use is there to you bellowing and stomping like a bull in rut?'

'It helps me pretend that I have some kind of control over my own life.'

Miss Contague let loose a championship sigh. She looked at Strafa. 'And you really want to partner up with this dope?'

'He'll be all right. You'll see. He just needs a chance to relax. He's been away for a long time.' She gave me a big happy puppy dog look.

How the hell can you go on being grumpy when a beautiful woman looks at you like you're the culmination of the man-creation process and she just adores you? How, when you look back at her, get caught up in a little heavy breathing, and she gets just a hint of virginal blush to her cheeks?

Belinda muttered, 'I think I'm going to puke. So. Let's move out. Let's go storm the ramparts of reality.'

Strafa said, 'Garrett and I will go ahead so he can see the Crown Prince. Please bring the young miss with you and Mr. Dotes.' She turned to Mike. 'And thank you so much for your hospitality, Miss Teagarden.'

Belinda agreed. 'Yeah. Twice, now. You've won a special place in my heart, Mike. You want some special considerations, ask. Just don't be unreasonable.'

Miss Tea inclined her head in a ghost of a bow. 'A bit more flexibility in the way we are permitted to operate wouldn't be amiss.'

The upcoming negotiation should be fascinating.

I got no chance to find out. Strafa dragged me to the window. I whined, 'Why can't we go out the front door like regular people?'

'Because we're special people and the regular people need to be reminded.'

I glanced at Penny as I clambered out, twisting, turning, picking up scratches and scrapes. The girl seemed forlorn but she had not melted down in shame.

94

Westman Block and a clutch of red tops infested my stoop and the street in front of my house. Strafa, a broom, and I slid down through the morning air. They spotted us as Strafa eased up to my window. Block had a lot to say down there but I couldn't hear him over Strafa's grumbling. I gave him a big grin and a bold thumbs up.

Strafa was exasperated. 'It's shut again.'

'What is?'

'The window. Somebody keeps shutting it while I'm gone.' She made gestures and muttered sourly.

I could guess who had done the shutting. I wasn't sure why.

Did Singe want to sabotage the new order?

The window slid upward. It made no sound.

'You'd make a great second-story man, woman.'

'Sweetheart, please climb through. Same as when we left.'

I dismounted without losing my composure or footing. I focused on the window. I have trouble with heights when I'm just standing around, looking down, from a place whence I could actually fall if I did something stupid. The fear is more manageable when I'm doing something implausible, like riding a broomstick with a witch.

I got inside without discovering a need to change my underwear.

Strafa darted in before I finished celebrating. The tip of her broom handle bonked me in the back of the head.

We treated ourselves to a few seconds of kissy-face huggybear; then the grown-up half of the crowd said, 'You'd better go downstairs and see if Prince Rupert is still here.'

'That bed sure looks inviting. And I mean for sleeping.'

'Downstairs. Go. Barate used to say, 'We can sleep as much as we want after we're dead.' '

'Yeah. He missed his calling as a top kick in the corps.'

Always literal minded, Strafa said, 'He was a counterespionage specialist in Full Harbor. He did two tours, one before I was born and another after my mother died.'

No comment. One more hug. One more kiss, me having trouble believing this was happening. Then downstairs we went.

We found the Crown Prince asleep in Singe's office. Singe was not there. She was in bed. So was Dean. The number-two man in Karenta was being entertained by Dollar Dan Justice to the extent that the ratman was in the same room. He was asleep, too.

I wakened both gently, Dollar Dan first. He muttered something about making tea and shuffled out.

Rupert wakened with an exaggerated start, obviously unsure where he was or why he was there. I found keeping a straight face to be a huge effort.

He had the most ridiculous, wonderful confection on his head, a massive ball of silver thread, wire, ribbon, and nonsense. It dropped down to his shoulders in back, his neck on the sides, and even covered most of his face.

'Did something tickle your funny bone, Mr. Garrett?'

He had the voice of a lord, I'll grant that. It was a rich deep voice made for command.

'Your chapeau took me by surprise.'

'Now you're going to tell me I wasted my time.'

'You did, Your Grace. Himself is asleep.' I should make some cheat cards. I don't spend enough time around royalty to know the proper forms of address. Rupert didn't puff up and turn red so Your Grace was good enough for now.

'So I understand. It probably doesn't matter, anyway. I came here to keep my brother from making a big mistake, trying to use the Palace Guard that way.'

I shrugged. 'I don't know what his thoughts were, either.'

'I sent word that I wanted to talk to you.'

'I've been busy.' I thought I had my mouth under control. Strafa, though, shuffled uncomfortably. 'But here I am. Let's do it quick. I still have things that need doing.'

I should not have added that. His time was precious. Mine was the worthless property of a trivial subject.

He did glance at Strafa, plainly wondering if she was what was distracting me from becoming an instrument of his will. 'All right, then. I've already missed a night of sleep because of my brother. A while with you won't make any difference.'

'What do you want from me, then?'

'Two things: this business of the thread men, then a renewal of my offer of employment. Tribune Felhske isn't working out.'

'He's a better investigator than I am. And he wants the job.'

'He is better than you only in a limited sense. What you lack in specific skills and ambition you make up in honesty.'

'Felhske is a crook?'

'He takes excessive advantage of his position. He isn't yet aware that I know about his bad behavior.'

'I'm disappointed. I recommended him. But I'm still not interested. I like my life the way it is.'

'Talk it over with Strafa. She ought to have some say.'

'I'll do that. Though. . Never mind. There was another matter?'

'The important thing. I want you, Strafa, and all of your friends, to back off and stay backed off of the thread men thing. And I do mean it.'

'Why?'

'Because I told you to.' He frowned, puzzled by the fact that I would even ask.

'Ain't gonna happen.'

'Excuse me?' He lurched forward in his chair, as though his ears must have betrayed him because of the distance between us.