Downpour

want to drive on now.”

Newman got the Mercedes moving again.

“The problem I have here, Mr. Newman, is that the unsavory elements are running the show, and I don’t know the players or the play, but I’m reasonably sure I can’t do what your wife wants without becoming as bad as the rest of them. Now, why would I want to do that?”

He turned in at the ranger station and said nothing until he’d pulled up next to my lonely Rover. Then he looked at me, keeping his hand on the automatic door lock, holding me in the Mercedes until he’d said his piece. His aura went an ugly chartreuse shade. “You kicked over the wasps’ nest; it’s up to you to clean it up.”

I unbuckled my seat belt, but I didn’t try to leave yet. “I didn’t kick over anything. This rotten situation was already brewing, and it was what killed Steven Leung as much as any person did. All I did was bring a light.”

“And now that you’ve shined your flashlight on the problem, you think it’ll go away.”

I shook my head, disappointed. “Not exactly. See, when I said ‘a light,’ I meant something more like a match to gunpowder. You don’t want to see what will happen if I accept your wife’s proposal. Because I won’t be dictated to about my methods; I’ll do it my own way, and that way is not pretty. Now, please unlock the door and let me go.”

“No.” He looked sick and scared, but I had to give him credit for balls.

What I didn’t have to do was give in. I rolled my eyes and reached under my coat for my pistol. “Let me out or I’ll have to shoot your car.” I let him glimpse the hard shape of the slide and sight as I drew it, carefully keeping it pointed away from him. I placed the P7’s muzzle against the passenger window. It made a hard clink as the metal touched the glass. I glanced back at him.

He looked about to faint. Then he pushed the lock release. I had to keep one arm across the ferret—which was tricky—as I opened the door and stepped out. Once I was standing on the ground between the two vehicles, I reholstered the gun—I hadn’t even cocked it, but Newman didn’t know the difference. I turned and started unlocking the Rover as half-frozen rain worked into my collar and hair. I refused to hurry, to give him the impression I was afraid or anxious, but I was still relieved when I got into the seat and closed the door on the weather.

Newman watched me the whole time, rolling down the window as I started to pull out. He shouted, “A quarter of a million dollars!”

I just drove away.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t tempted by the money, but I didn’t want to think about it right then. I wanted to go home. I didn’t even want to stop at the hotel and pick up my things. I certainly didn’t want to spend another night here. I could still catch a ferry and be home before midnight. I could even drive all the way down to Olympia and back up the other side of the Sound if I had to. In my gut I knew I wasn’t going to escape, but for now I’d do whatever it took to get home and away from Blood Lake.

TWELVE

Between the packing, checking out, and waiting for the ferry, I reached home about eleven o’clock. Quinton was hunched over my computer, typing madly, when I came in. Even though he’d said he’d see me when I got back, I hadn’t really expected him to be right in my living room. He shut his session down and came to greet me as soon as I closed the door.

He slipped his arms around me and hauled me close for a kiss and a lingering hug before either of us said a thing. “Hey. You’re back,” he started.

“I brought my front, too.”

“Mm . . . I could tell,” he said, squeezing me a little closer so my breasts flattened against his chest. I gave him a smile, but it was a little less enthusiastic than usual. He noticed. “Are you OK? You seem wrung out.”

I shrugged it off. “Oh, yeah. Just tired. Long day watching a bunch of guys haul a sunken car out of a lake.”

He leaned back, loosening his hug, and gave me a curious look. “Sounds weird. What was the car doing in the lake?”

I tucked my chin and pressed the top of my head to his shoulder. “What cars usually do—sink. I really don’t want to talk about it right now. Can we go to bed?”

He pulled me close again. “Sure, sweetheart. Sure we can.”

Of course, we had to unpack the ferret first and she wasn’t ready to go back to bed, so our desires had to wait on her pleasure. But we did manage to fall into bed around midnight. Not that we did a lot of sleeping....

In the morning, we both got up earlier than we wanted to, but I had work to do and Quinton had some mysterious project he had to get back to, so we gave up on attempting to unmake the bed from the inside out and returned to work.

From the office I started on the business that was still hanging over my head from before I’d left. First I called Nanette Grover and, once I had her on the line, she argued that having found the car and body and turned further investigation over to the sheriff ’s department, I was now free to come back to work for her. I hadn’t found anything on Shea, though; he was still as much a blank as ever. I needed more time on him and, much as I’d have liked to, I couldn’t walk away from the broader problem of the lake, its monsters, and its magicians. I knew the police wouldn’t get into it—it wouldn’t even register in their minds and whatever motive they eventually found for Leung’s murder would be as mundane and sordid as for any other normal-world homicide. And there was the matter of the Grey itself.

There wasn’t much doubt in my mind that Jewel Newman’s job was at least akin to the best interests of the Grey and the Guardian Beast. There might have been a loophole to get me out of the situation, but ignoring Grey jobs tended to be a lousy idea. Like the proverbial bad penny, it would keep turning up and causing problems until I gave in and dealt with it, anyway. I was also a bit on the fence about the quarter of a million dollars. Certainly it was a tempting amount, but taking the money would imply my doing Jewel’s bidding, and what she demanded in the heat of grief and anger—or in cold calculation—might not be so wise once things began coming apart under my prodding. Her avowed preference was that I kill the competing mages, but I was no assassin. Her second choice—to drive them away—was more to my taste; better still if I could get them to turn on one another.... I was still a little unsure of my powers in the Grey now, but I was reasonably certain I could make a damned fine mess if I tried. And after a night to think about it, I wanted to try, no matter how much I despised Jewel.

Even with these twisted thoughts, I carried on talking to Nan. “I still don’t have any information on Shea’s background, and the family of the dead man is still very concerned about the situation at the lake. It’s complicated by the overlapping jurisdictions. There’s still a lot of information to be found on both cases. I’d like to go back out and work them both some more. You know how the family becomes the last concern when agencies start bickering over who’s stuck taking out the garbage,” I said.

Nan made a noise of disgust. “Yes, I do, but that’s a distraction, and it doesn’t make me any happier about this. Stick on Shea and make sure I have something before we hit trial or I will start contracting with Feldman in the future. Don’t let this become a habit, Harper.”

“I understand, Nan.”

“I hope you do. I hire you because you’re reliable. Whether we’re friends or not makes no difference to me.”

If we had been friends, that would have hurt, and it stung more than I liked to admit, but I nodded at the phone, repeating, “I understand.”

“Good.” She hung up.

I wasn’t sure if I was burning a bridge or opening a door to something else, but I didn’t have a lot of time to ponder it. My phone rang within seconds of my putting it down.

Wishing I’d stopped for coffee on the way in, I picked up the phone again. “Harper Blaine.”

“Rey Solis. I wanted to ask you a few more questions.”

“Can it wait a few hours? I have a ton of paperwork to catch up on since I spent the weekend out on the Peninsula.” He rarely called—usually he just showed up if he wanted to grill me—so I guessed he wasn’t yet ready