Honk honk, har har. "I would've got suspicious when she wouldn't come to my house."
What saved me was finding that cat. I caught on when I tried to take him home. "Yeah."
The Dead Man might have saved me all the embarrassment. Had he been awake.
Part of the discomfort of the mess was knowing he'd never stop reminding me about it. "Never mind that.
Since we're talking about old ladies, tell me what this Maggie Jenn is going to want."
"I figure she's gonna ask you to kill somebody."
"Say what?" That wasn't what I expected. "Hey! You know—"
2
Somebody else was trying out my front door. This somebody had a fist of stone bigger than a ham. "I have a bad feeling about this," I muttered. "Whenever platoons of people start thumping the door... "
Winger stowed her leer. "I'll disappear."
"Don't wake the Dead Man."
"You kidding?" She pointed toward the ceiling. "I'll be up there. Find me when you're done."
I was afraid of that.
Having a no-strings, no-complications friendship can have its own complications.
The small front room had grown quiet. I paused to eavesdrop. Not one obscenity marred the precious silence. T.G. Parrot was asleep again.
I thought about making it that jungle pigeon's last nap, the beginning of the big sleep, the longest voyage, the...
Boom boom boom.
I peeked through the peephole. By-the-numbers Garrett, that's me. Fixing to live a thousand years.
All I saw was a smallish redhead facing three-quarters away, staring at something. That little bit did all that pounding? She was stronger than she looked. I opened the door. She continued staring up the street. I leaned forward cautiously.