Death of a Blue Movie Star (Rune 2)

Someone was in the room.

Nothing specific told her--no popping boards, no whispers, no shuffles of feet. The message was transmitted maybe by a smell or maybe by some sixth-sense radar.

The wave came back with a message: Whoa, honey, he's big and he's pretty damn close.

Rune didn't move. The other figure didn't either though twice she heard the air of his breath across his teeth. Her eyes became accustomed to the dark and she looked for a target and slowly lifted the tear gas.

Her hands began to quiver.

No, not one but two of them.

And they were ghosts.

Two pale forms. Humanlike, vague, undefined. They both stared at her. One held a thick, white billy club.

She aimed the canister at them. "I've got a gun."

"Shit," a man's voice said.

The other voice, also male, said, "Take the wallet. Take both wallets."

Her vision was improving. The apparitions turned into two naked, crew-cut men in their mid-thirties. She began to laugh when she saw what the club was; it was now considerably smaller.

"Sorry," she said.

"This isn't a mugging?"

"Sorry."

Heavy-duty indignation. "Well, I just want you to know you scared the living hell out of us. For your information, this room happens to be reserved."

Rune asked, "How long have you been here?"

"Too long, apparently."

"For the last hour or so?"

The anger became giddy relief. One of the men nodded toward his friend and said, "He's good but he's not that good."

The other, more sober: "Forty-five minutes?"

"Closer."

Rune asked, "Did you hear anybody come down from the roof?"

"Yeah, I did. Fifteen minutes ago. Then you go up, then you come down. Grand Central Station today."

"Did you see him?"

"We were a little busy...."

Rune said, "Please? It's important."

"We thought he was cruising but we weren't sure. You have to be kind of careful."

Sure. No telling what kind of degenerate you'll meet while having sex in deserted piers.

"So we kept mum."