Robert Asprin - Dragons Wild

“What do you mean you’ve heard?”

“And that’s the second thing. If you haven’t figured out by now that everyone talks about everybody in this town, you aren’t as smart as I know you are. Big Brother doesn’t ask after you? That’s because if anything goes wrong, you can bet he would hear about it in twenty minutes flat. Good news takes longer, and gets a bit more respect privacy wise, but that filters in, too.”

Mose held up a finger as she began to interrupt again. She shut her mouth sharply.

“Third, none of that matters. If you think you aren’t keeping Griffen safe, you’re underrating yourself. And I don’t just mean like with Gris-gris.”

He sighed and shook his head, then stood and walked over to a small bureau. After a few clinking sounds, he walked back over to Valerie and handed her a glass filled with rich brandy. He sat again, cradling his own glass and took a long sip.

“In some ways, you’ve got it a lot harder than he does, Valerie. You’ve got a tighter line to walk. You wonder what you are doing in New Orleans, and how that helps your brother. Well, I’ll tell you, you are keeping him safe, by being safe yourself. Wouldn’t be the first damn time a dragon went through family to manipulate or hurt another one. Not to mention in some circles you would be considered a prize and target on your own merits. Here, he knows you’re safe, and you know you’re keeping him likewise.”

He took another sip and this time she joined him, rolling the amber fluid around in her mouth thoughtfully.

“See, the thing is, the more active you are in his operations, the more danger you put yourself in. I know that isn’t easy to accept, but you really have to balance out how much you are helping him in the long run, by sticking your neck out in the short. And if you went anywhere else, he’d have his attention divided, and as good as he seems to be adapting that would be downright deadly.”

Silently, Mose pondered that those were exactly the reasons he was glad Griffen hadn’t told her about the most direct threat to him. What help she could offer would be outweighed by his own worry.

“I think I understand,” she said, and leaned back in her chair, thinking over and over his words.

“If you don’t, you will. I want you to think hard about it, and we’ll talk again. The best thing you can do is live your life, well and happy. ’Cause you are the boy’s joy and hope, and if something happened to you, everything we’ve been working to build would crumble to the winds.”

Valerie rose wordlessly and set her empty glass on the table. She looked over Mose thoughtfully, and leaned down and kissed his cheek. As she turned and walked out he watched her very carefully, and at least part of his attention was on just how nice a sight he was watching. He chuckled to himself as the door closed and shook his head.

“Mose, you’re getting too damn old for those kind of thoughts,” he said to himself, and rose to pour another drink.

He was doubly glad now that he had advised Griffen to keep his sister in the dark about the George.

As soon as Griffen rolled into Yo Mama’s, Padre caught his eye and jerked a head toward the back booths. Detective Harrison was already there, nursing a cup of coffee and studiously ignoring the other customers.

Griffen briefly considered reversing his course and easing back out, but it was too late. Harrison had already seen him and beckoned to him with a small motion of his hand.

Heaving a silent, inward sigh, Griffen complied. He really wasn’t feeling up to dealing with the detective tonight, but it seemed he didn’t have much choice.

“Okay, McCandles,” Harrison said without preamble. “I think we’ve gotta plan here. I’ve been talking to a couple a boys down at the precinct, and they’re willing to give a hand. Lucky for you they don’t like the Feds any more than I do.”

“Okay. Lieutenant.” Griffen nodded. “You have my undivided attention.”

The detective glanced around, then slid a slip of paper across the table.

“That’s my own cell phone number,” he explained. “When you spot one of these jokers following you, give me a call with the location and a description. I’ll relay it on to whoever’s closest, and we’ll handle it from there.”

“Wait a minute,” Griffen said. “I have to call you? How am I supposed to spot these guys? They’re professionals. I don’t know anything about tailing people or how to spot someone following me.”

“It’s not all that hard.” Harrison shrugged. “It’s actually pretty hard to tail someone if they’re watching for it. Ask your buddy Padre there for a few pointers. He used to be a private investigator. I’m more worried about what we’re going to do with them once we catch them. I mean, we can always find some reason for bracing them, but unless they declare themselves to be federal agents, it might be tough to tell them from some of our homegrown muggers.”

“I might be able to help you there.” Griffen dug into his pocket and produced his own cell phone. “Remember I told you I talked with Stoner? Well, before he walked up on me, he called me on his cell phone. That means I’ve got his number.”

“Okay. What does that get us?” the detective said.

“Well, I figure these people watching me have to report in somehow, and it’s my guess they’re using cell phones themselves. When you stop them, see if they have Stoner’s number in their directory. Even if they don’t, there should be one central number they all have to report to.”

“That could work,” Harrison said. “Not bad, McCandles. Well, let’s see what we turn up in a week.”

He rose to leave, then hesitated.

“I know I’ve asked this before, Grifter,” he said, “but do you have any idea why this Stoner guy has it in for you? I mean, this whole terrorist thing stinks on ice. What’s his real problem?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Griffen said with a smirk.

“Try me.”

Griffen looked at him levelly for a moment, then shrugged.

“The way it was explained to me,” he said carefully, “Stoner is a dragon. As such he collects power and has done a pretty good job so far. The problem is, he has it in his head that I’m a dragon, too, and am just coming of age. He’s afraid that I may be more powerful than he is, so he’s having me watched and tracked in case I become a threat. I try not to think about what he would or could do if he decided I was dangerous.”

Harrison stared at him.

“This is a joke, right?”

Griffen leaned forward and blew gently on the detective’s now cold cup of coffee. A small column of steam rose from the cup. He looked at it, then back at Harrison.

“I know,” he said. “I have trouble taking it seriously myself.”

“I didn’t know you had been a private eye,” Griffen said.

He was still finding that a little hard to believe. Even though he was getting used to the idea that almost everyone he met in the Quarter had a story behind them, Padre just didn’t seem the private-eye type. He was in his mid to late forties with longish hair pulled back in a ponytail. It had some streaks of gray, as did his mustache and goatee, and combined with his thin, wire-frame glasses, he looked more like a hippie than like anyone vaguely connected with the establishment.

“That was a while back, while I was in Texas,” Padre said, wiping down the bar.

Griffen had gone cruising for a while and was now back when the place was nearly empty. Early evening, Yo Mama’s was usually jammed with people ordering burgers, but if one came by late enough, after the grill was closed, say after three in the morning, the action had usually died down and conversation with Padre was easier.