Peace Talks (The Dresden Files 16)

Goodman Grey got into the backseat and slouched down wearily. He was perhaps one of the most forgettable people I’d ever seen. He was unremarkable in every way, a man of medium height and build, blandly not-bad-looking, and if you looked real close you could see Native American background in him somewhere. He was also one of the most dangerous shapeshifters in the world, he worked for one dollar per case, and he had saved me from meeting a truly ugly end in Tartarus.

“What the hell, man?” I asked as he settled in. “You’re supposed to be watching Justine.”

“Me and everyone else,” he complained. “You should have asked me about my group rates. Hey, Ms. Murphy.”

“Goodman,” Murphy replied. “Still working for these unsavory characters, I see.”

“Risk of the trade, ma’am,” Grey replied.

“Hold on, now,” I said. “Who else is watching Justine?”

“Who isn’t?” Grey asked. “White Court, cops, Feds, some wackadoo who is either a perv or a nutcase, doing it all by hacking into surveillance cameras online—”

“That sounds like it’s probably Paranoid Gary,” I said. “ He … has issues.”

Murphy frowned and said, “Wait. How in the world did you find out all of this?”

Grey shrugged.

Murphy arched an eyebrow at him. “How sure are you about your information?”

“Ms. Murphy, please.” Grey brushed imaginary lint off his shoulder and sniffed. “Like Dresden here, I do some of the work myself, and for some of it I have people.”

“Feds, though?” she asked. “I mean, locals I could understand. But what are the Feds doing involved?”

“We tipped off Agent Tilly, remember?” I asked.

Grey nodded. “Isn’t Tilly, but it’s some of his guys from the local field office.”

I grunted. “Everyone know about everyone else?” I asked.

“They know in part and they understand in part,” Grey said, somewhat smugly. “I know about all of them.”

“Unless you don’t,” Murphy pointed out.

“Unless I don’t,” Grey allowed, unperturbed. “But anyone who makes a move on the girl is going to set off about three different groups of dangerous people, and I figured you needed to know what was up.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Maybe I do.” I closed my eyes for a second, thinking.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Grey said.

I opened an eye and gave him an annoyed look that was, by necessity, at only half strength. It didn’t seem to damage him. Then I closed my eye again and kept thinking.

“One of the people surveilling Justine is the person who threatened her,” Murphy said. “And they must have given Thomas an ultimatum. And because he’s an idiot like you, Harry, he didn’t tell her about it.”

“Yeah, feels like that’s the right ballpark,” I said.

“Oh crap,” Grey sighed. “This is about the assassination attempt?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think someone leveraged him into it by threatening the girl.”

“Huh,” Grey said, sitting back. “Well, he’s a dead man now. Svartalves don’t kid around.”

I opened my eyes and looked at Grey in the mirror.

The shapeshifter shrugged and returned my gaze with a blank expression that showed neither hostility nor fear. “Oh. It’s personal. You and him, huh?”

“He stood beside me when it was bad,” I said.

“Ah,” Grey said, as if enlightened. “Okay.”

I nodded, and so did Murphy.

“So what do you want I should do?” Grey asked.

“Nothing’s changed,” I said. “Protect Justine.”

“Yeah,” he said, drawing the word out. “But there’s a lot of players here. Sometimes the best defense is a good offense, right?”

I scowled. “Hey, who is putting up the money around here?”

Grey shrugged and said to Murphy, “Do you want to explain it to him?”

“He’s one person, Harry, as remarkable as his abilities might be,” Murphy said thoughtfully. “Given that there are multiple threats, if he isn’t standing in arm’s reach of her, there’s not much he can do if someone decides to shoot her through the window.”

My chest panged a bit. It did that sometimes, when I imagined someone I knew getting shot. It did that every time when I imagined it being me.

“Let me get closer and find out more,” Grey said. “More information might help a lot. And if I can’t get anything useful, or turn up the actual threat, I can vanish the girl, get her to a safe house.”

“You have one of those?” Murphy asked.

Grey winked at her. “Let’s just say I can borrow one.”

I nodded, frowning. “Can you do email?”

“Who doesn’t do email …” Grey began, but then he looked at me. “Oh. Yes.”

“Murph, can you give him Paranoid Gary’s email?” I asked.

“My last fresh one was before I got hurt,” she said. “He may have moved on by now.” She took a notepad out of her jacket pocket and flipped through pages. She found the one she wanted, turned to a fresh page, and started writing. Murphy hadn’t been on the force for a while, but her habits had not changed much. She tore off the page and gave it to Grey. The email address was a string of gibberish letters and numbers. “Here. Make sure you tell him who gave you the address or he’ll assume you’re one of Them.”

He accepted the note, glanced at it once, and handed it back to her. “And why are you trusting this guy again?”

“It’s possible that Lara is playing games with me,” I said. “So her people might be behind it. The local cops are probably in Marcone’s pocket, and I don’t trust him any further than I can kick him. I don’t know why the Feds are involved or who is pushing them, but even though I like Tilly, he’s a square and this seems like a damned odd play for him. And I’ve never really been comfortable dealing with government agents.”

“Ah,” Grey said. “And the Internet guy is safe?”

“Paranoid Gary is a creep and a weirdo, but he’s our creepy weirdo,” I said. “If he’s the one doing the hacking thing, he can probably assist you. If it isn’t him doing it, he can probably find out who it is.”

“If he will,” Murphy said.

“Sure,” Grey said, almost jovially. “Because paranoid.” He shook his head. “Well. You don’t ever bore me, Dresden.”

“I’m good like that,” I said.

“At least you pay well,” he said, and nodded to Murphy. “Ma’am.”

“You’re going to need someone to relieve you eventually,” Murphy said.

“Only if we do this for a couple of weeks,” he said. He nodded to her; then he got out of the Munstermobile and walked back to his old Jeep.

“Useful guy,” she noted as Grey cranked up the vehicle and left, turning back toward Chicago.

“Very.”

“You trust him?”

“Well. I hired him. I trust him to live up to that.”