Free Evil Ways by Justin Gustainis Page B

indefinitely, and the NYPD might not buy your explanation of events."
    "Already gone. I worked a discorporation spell, then transported them to the East River, where they were materialized again. Now when water is found in their lungs, it won't seem surprising."
    "If the bad guys, whoever they are, could break in once, they can do it again," Morris said. "You've got to get out of there, Libby."
    "I already have. I checked into a hotel a little while ago. My corpus is lying on the bed while we talk. The door is triple-locked and warded, as well. It should be safe enough."
    Morris ran a hand through his hair. "You know, you could have called, Libby. Saved yourself a lot of time and effort."
    "I did, twice, and got your voicemail each time. I assume you haven't checked your messages for a while."
    "No, sorry. It's been kind of a busy morning for me, too." Morris told her about the Fortner job, and his subsequent visit from the FBI.
    Libby's expression, already sober, took on a grim cast. "Children. Again."
    "Yeah, and this time it's some kind of coordinated effort. That, or somebody has figured out how to be in two places, physically, at the same time. I never heard of any magic, black or white, being able to accomplish that."
    "Nor have I. It's probably impossible, even for an expert practitioner. I assume you're not interested in a technical explanation of why that's so."
    "Maybe another time." Morris frowned. "Libby, something just occurred to me —if you checked into a hotel, you had to use a credit card, didn't you? Unless you're in one of those places near Times Square that rents by the hour, cash only."
    "No, I didn't think I could blend in effectively in a no-tell hotel. It's not that trying to pass as a hooker would bother me, it's looking like a cheap hooker that I find demeaning."
    "So you used a credit card. They can find you that way, Libby. Won't even need magic to do it —just the skills of a good private detective."
    "Not to worry. I was able to… persuade the young man at the registration desk that there was no need to run my credit card imprint until I check out. It's against company policy, of course, but he found himself willing to make an exception, just this once."
    "All right, so you're probably okay for a while. But if there's a black magician involved, they'll find you, in time. You can't stay there indefinitely."
    "I know. Moving from hotel to hotel will buy some time, but it doesn't solve the basic problem. I need to know who's doing this, Quincey —and why. Although if I can determine the first, the second may well explain itself. But I'm not equipped to do this on my own. I need an investigator."
    "You're probably right. But, like I told you, the FBI's got me in a vice, and they're squeezing pretty hard. Otherwise, I'd be on the next plane to NYC. Wait —have you considered our old buddy, Barry Love? This sounds like something that'd be right up his alley, or down his mean street, or whatever the expression is."
    "I've already called him, and his answering service says he's out of the country, date of return unknown."
    "Must be tracking down 'the weird shit' a long way from home. Damn it." Morris gave his reflection in the bathroom mirror a good, hard look. "All right, fuck the goddamn FBI. I'll be there tomorrow and we can —"
    "No, Quincey, I don't want you taking that kind of chance just because you're helping me. Somebody like this Fortner could be a dangerous enemy."
    "Yeah, tell me about it. I was in the guy's house, remember? But there's no way I'm letting you —"
    "I've been thinking about that while we've been talking. Why don't I join you, in L.A. or wherever you're going next? It might get me out of range of whoever's after me, and even if it doesn't, I'd feel better with you to watch my back. Assuming you're willing to put yourself in jeopardy."
    Morris grinned at her, or rather her manifestation. "Libby, for you I'd even put myself in Wheel of Fortune. "
    "Always the smartass.