Had he come to throw us out in person?
I stood there for a second, looking at him. He spoke first, clearing his throat nervously. "Ms. Blake, may I speak with you for a moment?"
He was being awfully polite for someone who had come to kick us out. "I'm listening, Mr. Bayard."
"I really don't think the hallway is the place to discuss this."
I stepped to one side, ushering him into the room. He stepped past me, hands smoothing his tie. His gaze flicked to Jean-Claude, who was standing now. Jean-Claude smiled at Bayard. Pleasant, charming.
"I didn't realize you had company, Ms. Blake. I can come back."
I closed the door. "No, Mr. Bayard, it's all right. I told Jean-Claude about our misunderstanding this evening."
"Ah, yes, uh..." Bayard looked from one to the other of us, as if not sure what to say.
Jean-Claude didn't so much sit in the chair as fold his body around it. The movement was almost catlike. "Anita and I have no secrets from one another, Mr..."
"Bayard, Lionel Bayard." He walked over and offered his hand to Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude raised an eyebrow but took the offered hand.
The handshake seemed to make Bayard feel better. A normal gesture. He didn't know what Jean-Claude was. How he could look at him and think him human was beyond me. I'd only seen one vampire that could have passed for human, and he hadn't been human at all. Bayard turned back to me, adjusting his glasses, which didn't need adjusting. That nervous little gesture again. Something was up.
"What's up, Bayard?" I asked. I'd closed the door and was leaning to one side of it, arms crossed over my stomach.
"I'm here to offer our most sincere apologies for earlier tonight."
I just stared at him. "You're apologizing to me?"
"Yes. Mr. Stirling was overzealous. Why, if you had not been there to bring us all to our senses, a great tragedy might have occurred."
I tried to keep my face blank. I wanted to frown at him, or look confused. "Stirling's not mad at me?"
"On the contrary, Ms. Blake. He's grateful to you."
I didn't believe that. "Really," I said.
"Oh, yes. In fact, I've been authorized to offer you a bonus."
"Why?"
"To make up for our behavior tonight."
"Your behavior was fine," I said.
He smiled modestly. His act was about as sincere as faux pearls, but not half so realistic.
"How much is the bonus?"
"Twenty thousand," he said.
I stayed leaning against the wall, staring at him. "No."
He blinked at me. "Excuse me?"
"I don't want the bonus."
"I'm not authorized to go higher than twenty thousand, but I could speak with Mr. Stirling. Perhaps he would go higher."
I shook my head and pushed away from the wall. "I don't want more money. I don't want the bonus at all."
"You aren't quitting on us, are you, Ms. Blake?" He was blinking so fast I thought he'd pass out. Me quitting bothered him. A lot.
"No, I'm not quitting. But you're already paying an enormous fee. You don't need to pay more."
"Mr. Stirling is just very anxious that he has not offended you."
I let that one go. Too easy. "Tell Mr. Stirling I'd have thought better of his apology if it had been delivered in person."
"Mr. Stirling is a very busy man. He would have come himself, but he had pressing business."
I wondered how often Bayard had to apologize for the big man. I wondered how often the apology was for telling a fellow flunkie to shoot someone. "Fine, you've delivered the message. Tell Mr. Stirling that it isn't the gunfight that's going to make me bail. I read the cemetery tonight. Some of the corpses are closer to three hundred than two hundred. Three hundred years, Lionel; that's an old zombie."
"Can you raise them?" He had stepped closer, hands fidgeting with his lapels. He was close to invading my space. I'd have rather had Jean-Claude next to me.
"Maybe. The question isn't can I, but will I, Lionel."
"What do you mean?"
"You lied to me, Lionel. You underestimated the age of the dead by nearly a century."
"Not deliberately, Ms. Blake, I assure you. I merely repeated what our research department told me. I did not deliberately mislead you."
"Sure."
He reached out almost like he wanted to touch me. I moved back, just enough. He seemed terribly intense. He let his hand drop. "Please, Ms. Blake, I did not lie on purpose."
"The problem, Lionel, is that I'm not sure I can raise zombies this old without a human sacrifice. Even I have my limits."
"So nice to know," Jean-Claude said softly.
I frowned at him. He smiled.
"You will try, won't you, Ms. Blake?"