The Lunatic Cafe(42)

"I've seen shifters interviewed on live television," he said.

"They're the exceptions, Bert, not the rule."

"So you won't help Ms. Drew?"

"No, I won't."

"I won't try and appeal to your sense of greed, though she has offered us a lot of money. But think what a positive book on lycanthropy would do to help your shapeshifting friends. Good press is always welcome. Before you turn her down, talk to your friends. See what they say."

"You don't give a damn about good exposure for the lycanthrope community. You're just excited about the money."

"True."

Bert was an unscrupulous bastard and didn't care who knew it. It was hard to win a fight when you couldn't insult someone. I sat down across from him. He looked pleased with himself, like he knew he'd won. He should have known better.

"I don't like sitting down across from clients and not knowing what the hell they want. No more surprises. You clear clients with me first."

"Anything you say."

"You're being reasonable. What's wrong?"

His smile widened, setting his little eyes sparkling. "Mr. Gunderson has offered us a lot of money for your services. Twice the normal fee."

"That's a lot of money. What does he want me to do?"

"Raise an ancestor from the dead. He's under a family curse. A witch told him if he could talk to the ancestor that the curse originated with, she might be able to lift it."

"Why double the fee?"

"The curse started with one of two brothers. He doesn't know which one."

"So I have to raise them both."

"If we're lucky, only one."

"But you keep the second fee anyway," I said.

Bert nodded vigorously, happy as a greedy clam. "It's even your job description, and besides, even you wouldn't let a fellow go through his life with feathers on his head if you could help him, now would you?"

"You smug bastard," I said, but my voice sounded tired even to me.

Bert just smiled. He knew he'd won.

"You'll clear clients with me that aren't zombie raisings or vampire slayings?" I said.

"If you have the time to read up on every client I see, then I certainly have time to write up a report."

"I don't need to read about every client, just the ones you're sending my way."

"But, Anita, you know it's just luck of the draw which of you is on duty on any given day."

"Damn you, Bert."

"You've kept Ms. Drew waiting long enough, don't you think?"

I stood up. It was no use. I was outmaneuvered. He knew it. I knew it. The only thing left was a graceful retreat.

"Your two o'clock canceled. I'll have Mary send Gunderson in."

"Is there anything you wouldn't schedule in as a client, Bert?"

He seemed to think about that for a minute, then shook his head. "If they could pay the fee, no."

"You are a greedy son of a bitch."

"I know."

It was no use. I wasn't winning this one. I went for the door.

"You're wearing a gun." He sounded outraged.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"I think you can meet clients in broad daylight at our offices without being armed."

"I don't think so."

"Just put the gun in the desk drawer like you used to."

"Nope." I opened the door.

"I don't want you meeting clients armed, Anita."

"Your problem, not mine."

"I could make it yours," he said. His face was flushed, voice tight with anger. Maybe we were going to get to fight after all.

I closed the door. "You mean fire me?"

"I am your boss."

"We can argue about clients, but the gun is not negotiable."

"The gun frightens clients."

"Send the squeamish ones to Jamison," I said.

"Anita" -- he stood up like an angry storm -- "I don't want you wearing the gun in the office."

I smiled sweetly. "Fuck you, Bert." So much for a graceful exit.





Chapter 16





I closed the door and realized I had accomplished nothing but pissing Bert off. Not a bad hour's work, but not a great accomplishment. I was going to tell Ms. Drew that I might be able to help her. Bert was right about good press. I nodded at Gunderson as I passed him. He smiled back. Somehow I didn't think he really wanted me to raise the dead. I'd find out soon enough.

Ms. Drew was sitting legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. The picture of elegant patience.

"I may be able to help you, Ms. Drew. I'm not sure, but I may know someone who can help you."

She stood up, offering me a manicured hand. "That would be wonderful, Ms. Blake. I certainly appreciate your help."

"Does Mary have a number where I can reach you?"