Page 133 of Fire and Bones

It was a good call. In a nanosecond the pink lady was again leveled on me.

Placing her free hand on one knee, Lipsey pushed to her sportyingly shod feet.

I held motionless, now looking up at the pink-cloaked two-inch barrel. Beside my right ankle, spittle dribbled from a corner of Deery’s mouth. A crimson stream oozed from below his torso.

“Now what?” I asked quietly.

“Now I blow your bony ass to kingdom come.” Waving the pistol back and forth in front of my face.

“Before you do that, may I tell you a curious thing to come out of the Foggy Bottom fire?”

I knew that six inches from my right foot, Deery had a spare strapped to his ankle. I wanted to distract Lipsey so I could make a grab for his piece.

“Four people got killed,” she said. “That sucks, but it was never my intent. Life is timing.”

“We recovered five bodies,” I said.

“Yeah?” Curious, despite herself.

I told her about the tiny subcellar lady. She listened, arthritic grip tightening and loosening on the handle of the .38.

“So who the hell is she?”

“I’m not sure.”

“How’d she end up in a burlap bag in a basement?”

“Her skull was fractured, and her jaw was broken.” Lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “She was murdered.” I didn’t really know that, but hoped the melodrama would draw Lipsey in.

“Why the bloody hell are you telling me this?”

“I think the killer was a member of the Foggy Bottom Gang.” Another lie for survival.

“One of the Warrings?”

I nodded, grim.

Tic.

Tic.

Shush.

Tic.

Movement behind me?

My expression held, giving no indication that I was totally focused on listening.

My ears picked up nothing but dripping, erratic now.

Had I imagined the sound?

Lipsey took a step left, then right, gun steady on my chest, reptile eyes glued to mine. Then she centered herself in front of me.

“You’re making this up,” she said.

“I’m not.”