to pluck out a cookie.
Elly thought about the new quartz-green flower in the vase on the kitchen windowsill.
'Speaking of wild nights and fast living, just where did you go last night, missy?' she whispered.
Rose chomped down on a cookie.
The doorbells chimed again. Elly watched another familiar local, Herschel Lafayette, take one last, nervous look over his shoulder before he ducked inside the shop.
'Afternoon, Elly.'
She groaned. 'Not you, too, Herschel.'
'Huh? Huh?' Herschel scuttled toward the counter. 'Not me, too, what? What?'
'Are you here to ask about my private life? Because if so, you can turn around and go straight back outside.'
Herschel stopped in front of her, pinched features screwed into an impatient scowl. 'Why in green friggin' hell would I give a fried ghost ass what you did in private?'
A heretofore undiscovered sense of fondness and affection for the little ruin rat rose within Elly. She gave him a warm smile.
'I always knew there was something unique and special about you, Herschel.'
'Yeah, yeah, I'm special, all right.' He checked the misty view through the windows again. 'Came by to see if you've heard from Bertha Newell lately.'
Elly stiffened before she could help herself. Fortunately, Herschel didn't seem to notice. He was still watching the sidewalk.
'No, I haven't, now that you mention it,' she said, injecting what she hoped was a suitably unconcerned note into her voice. 'Why? Is there a problem?'
'Dunno.' He turned back, jiggling a little. 'Been by her shop a couple of times since yesterday. She's not there. Wanted to show her something I found in my sector. Get her opinion, y'know? When it comes to identifying the valuable stuff, she's as good as any of those fancy para-archaeologists up there at the university.'
'She's probably working underground.'
'Don't think so.' He pulled the grease-stained collar of his jacket up around his neck, compulsively attempting to shield his features from passersby on the street. 'She never stays underground overnight. Sleeping down in the catacombs spooks her.'
'Maybe she went to see her daughter and grandchildren,' Elly offered helpfully.
'Nope. She told me she was there a couple of weeks ago for one of the kid's birthdays. No reason she'd go back so soon.'
'Well, I wouldn't worry if I were you,' Elly said, trying for a soothing approach. The last thing they needed was to have Herschel start asking questions about Bertha's extended absence. 'I'm sure she'll turn up. Meanwhile, why don't I fix you a nice cup of Harmonic balm tea?'
Herschel's eyes darted to the table that held the hot water pot and plastic cups. 'Yeah, sure, that'd be great. Thanks.'
Elly crossed to the tea table and selected a canister from the shelf while she tried to think of a way to distract Herschel from Bertha's closed shop.
'You say you've come across a particularly valuable relic?' she asked casually.
'Maybe. Don't know yet.' He shoved his hands into his pockets and bounced on his toes a couple of times, peering out at the street. 'That's why I want Bertha to look at it before I sell it. If it's as special as I think it is, I may go straight to the folks at the Cadence Museum with it, instead of my usual cheap-ass dealers.'
'Good plan.' She put the herbs into a cup, poured hot water over them, and stirred gently.
'Can't figure out why she'd up and disappear like this.' Herschel began to pace. 'Thought maybe the guy who runs the flower shop next door to her place, Griggs, or whatever his name is, might have seen her or at least know where she went. But he was closed, too.'
She carried the cup of tea to the counter and set it down together with a small paper napkin. 'Here you go, Herschel. Be careful, it's hot.'
'Yeah, yeah, sure.' He picked up the cup and inhaled the steamy aroma. Some of the nervous tension in him eased. 'Thanks.'
'You're welcome.'
Herschel took a cautious sip and went toward the door. 'I ran into Benny and Joe. They hadn't seen her either.'
'Who are Benny and Joe?'
'Freelance hunter-tangler team. Some of the ruin rats hire 'em to go underground as protection. Griggs uses them a lot because he doesn't have any para-rez talent of his own.'
'Stuart Griggs, the florist?' she asked, startled. 'He goes into the catacombs to search for relics? I didn't know he was in that line.'
'He's not.' Herschel made a face. 'Benny and Joe don't know why he likes to go down into the catacombs, but he hires them on a regular basis. They don't give a damn what he's looking for as long as he's willing to pay for their services.'
'I see.'
'Well, thanks for the tea. See ya.'
'Bye, Herschel.'
Elly leaned on the counter and watched Herschel hurry away into the gray mist.
'Guess the state of my sex life isn't of great interest to everyone in the neighborhood after all, Rose.'
Rose crouched over her hoard of jewelry like some tiny, fluffy dragon gloating over a pile of gold, and munched her second cookie.
'You know, it occurs to me that other people may start to notice that Bertha isn't around,' Elly said. 'We don't want folks to get too curious about her absence. Maybe I should trot on down to her shop and put up a little sign saying she's out of town for a few days.'
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. She had a key, she reminded herself. She could slip down the alley, enter the shop through the back door, put the sign in the window, and depart very discreetly.
Given the rapidly thickening fog, it was unlikely that anyone would notice her coming and going via the alley. But even if someone did see her, no one would think it odd. Everyone knew that she and Bertha were friends. She could always say that she'd had a call from Bertha. Something about a family emergency.
She used a felt pen to hand-letter the sign on a sheet of paper. When she was satisfied with the results, she turned over the Back in Ten Minutes sign in her own shop window.
She yanked her coat down off the hook, put it on, and opened her tote for Rose.
'Let's ride, sister.'
Mumbling cheerfully, Rose dashed along the top of the counter and hopped down into the tote. She hooked her front paws over the top and poked her head up, blue eyes open wide, so as not to miss anything.
Chapter 21
THE SMALL, INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED PACKETS WERE packed neatly inside the three cardboard boxes stacked inside the old storage closet. The boxes were labeled Toilet Tissue, which struck Cooper as oddly appropriate under the circumstances.
He let himself out of the closet. The two-hundred-year-old basement was walled and floored with stone, but water had seeped in, as water always did in such places, creating a damp, moldy atmosphere.
Water was not the only thing that trickled into the large, dark space, he noticed. A lot of stray psi energy permeated the atmosphere down here, too. Not surprising, given the proximity of the Dead City Wall. Probably a hole-in-the-wall somewhere in the vicinity, just as Elly had suggested.
He used the flashlight to make his way back to a heavy wooden door that looked as if it had been there since the building was constructed.
