Small Favor (The Dresden Files 10)

Then he seemed to realize he was being watched. He turned his face up to me, meowed smugly, flicked the stub of his tail jauntily, and hopped to the floor.

"Bob?" I called. "Is the spell still working?"

"Aye, Cap'n!" Bob said. "Arrrrr!"

"What's with that?" Thomas murmured from right beside me.

I twitched hard enough to take me up off the floor, and glared at him. "Would you stop doing that?"

He nodded, his expression serious, but I could see the corners of his mouth quivering with the effort not to smile. "Right. Forgot."

I growled and called him something unkind, yet accurate. "He wouldn't stop begging me to take him to see that pirate movie. So I took him with me the last time I went to the drive-in down in Aurora, and he got into it. It's been dying down, but if he calls me 'matey' one more time I'll snap."

"That's interesting," Thomas said, "but that's not what I was asking about."

"Oh, right," I said. I pointed at the catnip bag. "The leaf 's in there."

"Isn't that just going to draw Summer's goons here?"

I let out a nasty laugh. "No. They can't see it through the wards around the lab."

"Then why the big rubber band?"

"I linked Summer's beacon spell to the matrix around Little Chicago. Every time the leaf gets within a foot of the model, my spell transfers the beacon's signal to the corresponding location in the city."

Thomas narrowed his eyes in thought, and then suddenly grinned in understanding as Mister pounced on the catnip again, this time landing near the Field Museum. "If they're following that beacon, they'll be running all over town."

"In two and a half feet of snow," I confirmed, grinning.

"You're sadistic."

"Thank you," I said solemnly.

"Won't they figure it out?"

"Sooner or later," I admitted, "but it should buy us a little time to work with. 'Scuse me."

I shambled to the door and put on my coat.

"Where to first?" Thomas asked.

"Nowhere just yet. Sit tight." I grabbed my square-headed snow shovel from the popcorn tin by the door, where it usually resided with my staff, sword cane, and the epically static magic sword, Fidelacchius. Mouse followed me out. It was a job of work to get the door open, and more than a little snow spilled over the threshold. I started with shoveling the stairs and worked my way up, a grave digger in reverse.

Once that was done, I shoveled the little sidewalk, the front porch of the boardinghouse, and the exterior stairs running up to the Willoughbys' apartment on the second floor. Then I dug a path to the nest of mailboxes by the curb. It took me less time than I thought it would. There was a lot of snow, but it hadn't formed any layers of ice, and it was basically a question of tossing powder out of the way. Mouse kept watch, and I tried not to throw snow into his face.

We returned to my apartment, and I slung the shovel's handle back down into the popcorn tin.

Thomas frowned at me. "You had to shovel the walk? Harry...somehow I'm under the impression that you aren't feeling the urgency here."

"In the first place," I said, "I'm not terribly well motivated to bend over backward to save John Marcone's Armani-clad ass. I wouldn't lose much sleep over him. In the second place, my neighbors are elderly, and if someone doesn't clean up the walks they'll be stuck here. In the third place, I've got to do whatever I can to make sure I'm on my landlady's good side. Mrs. Spunkelcrief is almost deaf, but it's sort of hard to hide it when assassin demons or gangs of zombies kick down the door. She's willing to forgive me the occasional wild party because I do things like shovel the walk."

"It's easier to replace an apartment than your ass," Thomas said.

I shrugged. "I was so stiff and sore from yesterday that I had to do something to get my muscles loosened up and moving. The time was going to be gone either way. Might as well take care of my neighbors." I grimaced. "Besides..."

"You feel bad that your landlady's building sometimes gets busted up because you live in it," Thomas said. He shook his head and snorted. "Typical."

"Well, yeah. But that's not it."

He frowned at me, listening.

I struggled to find the right words. "There are a lot of things I can't control. I don't know what's going to happen in the next few days. I don't know what I'm going to face, what kind of choices I'm going to have to make. I can't predict it. I can't control it. It's too big." I nodded at my shovel. "But that, I can predict. I know that if I pick up that shovel and clear the snow from the walkways, it's going to make my neighbors safer and happier." I glanced at him and shrugged. "It's worthwhile to me. Give me a minute to shower."

He regarded me for a second and then nodded. "Oh," he said, with the tiniest of smiles. He mimed a sniff and a faint grimace. "I'll wait. Gladly."

I cleaned up. We were on the way out the door when the phone rang.

"Harry," Murphy said. "What the hell is going on out there?"

"Why?" I asked. "What the hell is going on out there?"

"We've had at least two dozen...well, I suppose the correct term is 'sightings.' Everything from Bigfoot to mysterious balls of light. Naturally it's all getting shunted to SI."

I started to answer her, then paused. Marcone and the outfit were involved. While they didn't have anywhere near the influence in civic affairs that they might have wanted, Marcone had always had sources of information inside the police department-sources his subordinates could, presumably, access as well. It would be best to exercise some caution.

"You calling from the station?" I asked her.

"Yeah."

"We should talk," I said.

Murphy might not want to admit that anyone she worked with could be providing information to the outfit, but she wasn't the sort to stop believing the truth just because she didn't like it. "I see," she said. "Where?"

"McAnally's," I said. I checked a clock. "Three hours?"

"See you there."

I hung up and started for the door again. Mouse followed close at my heels, but I turned and nudged him gently back with my leg. "Not this time, boy," I told him. "The bad guys have a lot of manpower, access to skilled magic, and I need a safe place to come home to. If you're here there's no way anyone is going to sneak in and leave me a present that goes boom."

Mouse huffed out a breath in a sigh, but sat down.