Chapter Ten --- Crossing Lines
Wednesday 9:00a.m.

I called downstairs, Finn. Come on. You're wasting my time.

Finn grunted something, then kicked another piece of furniture across the room and into a wall. I heard the wood splinter against the rock walls. Finn's head appeared at the entrance to the lower level He was lugging a hefty leather satchel.

Looky here what I found. Your punk buddy had some goodies stashed away. Reckon he thought he'd set himself up as a wizard.

He dumped a bag full of crumbling manuscripts and scrolls, along with a dozen talismans and a few bags of herbs out onto the dusty floor and kicked them into a pile. Then he shook out a cigarette and lit it off a big kitchen match.

Hmm, y'know, most accidents happen at home, he smirked and dropped the match onto the dry papers. A tendril of gray smoke curled up immediately from the ancient volumes. Looks like I just had one.

Look, Riley. You're a good cop. I know how it is. Back in L.A. I saw things that I thought I'd never get over. It was hard working up sympathy for him, but I tried. I had a feeling the brothers-in-arms bit wasn't working. I get that you're pissed and I even get that there's a lot of other stuff bothering you. But man, you just can't go on doing shit like this. I tried to warn him. I should have saved my breath.

He barked out a harsh laugh, What's the matter, Harris. Getting soft in your old age, or have you just decided to bat for the other team? Maybe letting your little pet fang have a nibble? He sneered at me. You're as bad as the slut that running the Stake.

That's when I hit him. His ass hit the smoldering pile of books with a thud. He laughed up at me from the floor.

You can't handle the truth, can you, pal? They're gonna eat you for breakfast. One way or the other. He struggled to his feet and kicked the mess around further. And when they nail you, I'll be there, laughing.

He made a dramatic exit, his long coat flapping around his ankles, into the morning light. Eliott Ness, triumphant, into the brightening sunlight.

Somewhere I'd crossed a line. Somehow I had changed. Well, if Finn was standing there on the other side, I guessed I wouldn't be in any hurry to cross back. I stood in the doorway and listened to the Crown Vic roar off. Spike stepped out of the shadows again and stood at my elbow quietly. I patted down my pockets for my pack of smokes. Spike shook out two of his and handed me one. He flopped down on a sarcophagus a smoked a while. I did too.


Wednesday noon Willy's Alibi Room

Willy's is not the most appealing of bars, even after dark when most of the grunge is hidden. Willy's by daylight is even less so, if that's at all possible. That's where the information always ends up though.

We'd claimed a seat in the high-backed booth near the back room. I had filled in Spike about the latest developments with the LaBonte case. That didn't take long. He had nothing on the Latin stuff, yet. He was giving me the lowdown on the bokur, a wild card named Meers. I heard a low and a shifty eyed demon with more loose skin than a basset hound shuffled over.

He slid down next to me and grabbed one of the plastic-covered menus to hide behind. Good trick, seeing as how his bat ears stuck out a foot.
Ah, Spike, he whispered confidentially, Got some news for you.

And this would be exactly what?

Ah, well, that would be telling, see...and I'm sooo thirsty.

Spike rolled his eyes and flagged down the bartender while our nervous informant murmured across the table.

Zombie's getting raised for cash, I hear.

Old news. Keep talking.

Floppy Ears seemed insulted by our lack of excitement. Well, how about this: Zombie Master's paying cash for something else. He's looking for something he lost. A cup, maybe. He happily sucked down a gaily decorated glass of thin gray slime through a twisty straw.

Spike looked even more bored, if that is even possible. Floppy looked nervously around the nearly empty bar, trying to dredge up something worth another drink.

Poison, then?

I fail to see why would that interest me, Spike intoned. The mention of poison caught my attention, though, and Floppy noticed.

The demon looked over at me oddly, Oh, pardon me. I assumed you and this human were working together.

Hey now, no need to get insulting, Spike growled and curled his lip. I don't work for anybody.

I turned to Spike with an evil leer and called for another glass of the gray sludge our guest was drinking. I looked attentive.

Tell me all about this poison?

Floppy scratched behind his ears with one massive paw, Well, this guy, Warren Meers makes it. Nasty stuff...very messy with the blood and everything. He's got a lab someplace around town. And... there's something about a cup ...very important....And... he gulped down the rest of his swill, 'S'all I know. Bye. The demon leaped to his feet like a jackrabbit and made for the back stairs. Thanks. Gotta run, he called as he disappeared down toward the basement tunnels.

Spike was seething.
Not only have you ruined my reputation, but you got royally suckered by Clement. Everyone knows he's a tosser.

I snorted a laugh. Sorry, I'll try and remember that. That poison, though... you remember Larry.

Yeah, so?

So this Meers is a sorcerer. I'm thinking he's the source, maybe even the killer.
Yeah, I figured that much.

What I can't figure is Finn. Why drag me into this? And why is he trying to pin this LaBonte case on you? I thought for a moment, He's been all over you like a cheap suit.

Spike laughed, a low rough sound, He's been all over me for donkey's years. He stopped and considered something. Y'got me thinking, though. Let me get back to you later tonight.

He leaped up and followed Clement's path to the downstairs tunnels. I finished the drink I really didn't need and lit up a smoke I didn't really want. Something was nagging at me. Something important.

The package. I'd put it away and forgotten all about it.

tbc

Music: Etta James, Walking the Back Streets, from Matriarch of the Blues