“W, we have to meet. —J.”

The message had appeared on the screen of Pendergast’s cell phone that morning, and now, three hours later, was the first time he was able to run it down. She hadn’t given him any kind of meeting time and he assumed it meant he was free to arrive when he could.

Only one person had ever called him anything beginning with W. And only one person would have signed off with the initial J, especially since everyone else knew her by a different name. He had located her very quickly, of course, in a hotel room near the airport under an alias. Oh, what a tangled web, he couldn’t help thinking. He was skirting other thoughts as he took the stairs to the fifth floor and made his way silently down the carpeted hall to her room. It had been a year or more. What...   read more »

She screamed, screamed bloody murder.

No.

She screamed, her hands flying to her mouth to try to

No!

She screamed, unable to stop the

NO!

She screamed.

Maybe.

She screamed. Jeff’s face turned a shade of red thatohbullshitbullshitbullshit

Lee stood up, stretching. Enough for today. It just couldn’t be forced. It was like sex that way, it either worked or it didn’t, and if it didn’t, no amount of pretending would make it right. Time to do something physical, work the kinks out. She decided to pull some weeds. At least it would get her out into the spring sunshine and fresh air before the rain they’d been calling for all week started. She’d made her preparations for the rain and waited for it for four days; it was beginning to appear that the weathermen had all graduated from the same lousy correspondence school of weather prognostication.

She looked down at her denim cutoffs and green tank and figured...   read more »

Proctor was not surprised when he heard his name called from the vicinity of the library. He finished putting away the dishes he held in his hand and then walked down the dark hall. The door to the library was ajar, and he pushed it all the way open and stepped in. “Yes?” He did not use the title “Sir” ever when speaking with his employer, an idiosyncrasy left over from his employer’s days in Special Ops and his own days in Special Forces. The simple, automatic use of the word “sir” could have destroyed one’s cover and out of sheer habit was not used in the Pendergast household.

Pendergast sat behind his desk, long pale fingers steepled beneath his chin, and he looked up at the other’s entrance. “Proctor, what is this?” He raised one brow to indicate the small, brown-wrapped package on the desk.

“It came by special courier...   read more »

Lady M sat down at her mahogany desk and gestured for her favorite client to do the same. After just a moment’s hesitation, he folded himself into the armchair opposite her, crossing his long legs and folding his hands in his lap. With the severe black suit and the tightly knotted tie, he looked as if he could be selling her a cemetery plot. His pale coloring and absolute stillness when he sat added to the image. She knew better. “Sherry,” she said, indicated the cut crystal glass before him. “We have not seen you in some little while, Mr. — Hammett, is it? This time?”

A small smile creased the impassive face before her. “That is correct. This time.”

She nodded. “I had assumed you wanted the usual arrangements. The tower suite is yours for the night. Fully stocked bar, two appetizer trays, cotton instead of silk sheets, and your...   read more »

Charles watched him sleep.

Aloysius lay curled up tightly beside him; face as expressionless as always, even in sleep. But he still looked peaceful. His back was to the wall and he was painfully vulnerable, Charles didn’t dare touch him; Aloysius had reflexes like a viper. And he was significantly more dangerous. But he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, the doctors had given him something for the pain and something else to help him sleep.

I should change the bandage... Charles...   read more »

Mrs. Peabody smiled over my right shoulder and said, in her genteel old Mrs. Peabody voice, “Why, hello there.”

I didn’t bother to look around. Mrs. Peabody talked to someone over one of my shoulders almost every time I gave her medications. Thing was, there was never anyone there. Not in this dimension, anyway. I...   read more »

The young FBI agent Halo Spencer looked out the side of his sunglasses to the older agent seated beside him. The other agent’s hair was white-blonde, contrasting to a completely black suit that was tailored to his too-thin frame. His eyes were silver like a Husky’s and his skin was pale to the point of transparency but not sickly in any way. His lips pressed into a disapproving line as he looked down at the case file on the table between them. Halo studied his profile in the half-dark of twilight and thought maybe he was an angel. It took him a moment to remember he’d stopped believing in angels.

Fine then,He decided. He’s a sculpture come to life or a god once sent to earth and then forgotten. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Today, he’s just my boss.

“What do you make of this Agent Spencer?” He asked in a voice...   read more »

It was an exceedingly dull party. All the rich people of New Orleans were dragging around Old Man Caprian’s garden, celebrating the wedding of his youngest to the youngest of some other wealthy, boring person; drinking expensive wine and whiskey and trying to forget themselves. I was circling the outside of the main body of people, doing my damndest not to fit in, and feeling the bodice of my dress getting tighter and tighter and tighter, until I simply couldn’t take it anymore. I dropped my glass on a waiter’s tray and hurried into the house.

There were crowds there, too, in the main hall and the formal front parlor. Feeling pressed in, I kept moving on, seeking an empty room. Finally, in desperation, I asked a servant where I could go for a moment of privacy.

“Oh, upstairs, Ma’am. Feel free to use anyone of the guest rooms. Top...   read more »